


Bookish

by TheRoarOfAtlas



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: 25 Days of Chrismuts, Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Bodyguard Romance, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Gun Kink, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Merry Holidays, Only I/We Can Touch Them Trope, Protective Tropes, Protectiveness, Relearning You, So You Know It'll Be Good, Temporary Amnesia, This Is Some Cheesy Romance-Novel Bullshit, This is shameless, Violence, Way Too Much Plot With Some Porn, indulgence, reader has female body parts, the shield - Freeform, thirst party saturday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2018-12-30 20:10:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 29,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12116313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRoarOfAtlas/pseuds/TheRoarOfAtlas
Summary: Self-indulgent, romance-novel levels of hurt/comfort, touchy-feely shenanigans, starring The Shield as bodyguards.[x-posted to Tumblr]Enjoy!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> [!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains rampant (emotional) parental neglect.]

Since you had been very, very young, you’d been informed of your parents love for you. Numerous caretaker figures had reassured you of this, and there always seemed to be a package waiting when you got home from school with far-off places on the label, brimming with odds and ends to enrich your mind or new toys for you to play with.

 

But they were rarely home in person. You grew accustomed to hearing their voices through speakers or seeing their faces lit with tired, blueish light from whatever screen they had in front of them.

 

Loneliness wasn’t so much a _feeling_ as it was a constant drone in the background. You thought you were used to it but it would flare brighter at random intervals, softly whispering about your solitude.

 

_Maybe my parents don’t like me._

 

As you grew older family movies made your heart ache and you began to change the channel before the melancholy could ruin your day. Sixteen came and went, eighteen came and went.

 

Your last caretaker departed sometime during your nineteenth year and left you well and truly alone in the large house, aside from the individuals who came in to clean. You decided to take some rudimentary classes at the local college. It wasn’t _exactly_ like you had much to do now that high school was done with, and you _did_ love reading almost everything you could get your hands on.

 

Twenty-one came and went, and with it went the end of proverbial ‘milestone’ birthdays. The years continued to file by in a neat, orderly fashion.

 

_Maybe there’s something wrong with me_.

 

On the rare occasions where your parents came home, it was so brief and predictable that the instances began to blur together in your mind. The stiff hugs, the _oh you’ve gotten so big!_ , the kiss on your cheek. You weren’t sure as you got older whether _you_ were the idiot for rushing to the door every time they arrived, or whether they were the idiots for coming back.

 

But this might be different. A spur-of-the-moment kind of thing. Your mother had come breezing by _entirely_ unannounced (which was unheard of), and she was _thrilled_.

 

“There’s a _gala_ ,” Your mother said with what sounded like real excitement in her voice, “And you’ve been invited too! You’re an adult now, sweetheart. You need a dress!”

 

You wanted to point out that seeing as you were well into your twenties, you’d been an adult for a _while_. But you kept your mouth shut.

 

You had never spent any real length of time with your mother. It was odd, wandering through a bridal shop with (essentially) a stranger who somehow had intimate knowledge of your goings-on. Occasionally though, you would catch a glimpse of a black suit and your shoulders would relax again at the implication of your safety.

 

Dean, Roman and Seth had been assigned as your personal security after an _incident_ almost a year ago; someone had broken into your parent’s house while you slept peacefully and you had woken up to a loud bang when the door to your bedroom flew open. You had screamed and the intruder had fled rapidly, but the damage was done. For the weeks afterward you were escorted to and from your college classes by numerous severely-dressed women or men at all times, “ _until I figure out a permanent solution,_ ” your father had said over the phone.

 

You amused yourself in classes thinking about them sitting outside the door like a group of bored puppies.

 

When at home it was like living with three to four interchangeable ghosts. The roster and names varied over the days but the personalities stayed the same. Cool, calm, the definition of organized. Not a hair out of place. You thought about _The Matrix_ and mused on whether you were Neo or Mr. Smith. Most of the time though, you just felt like the woman in the red dress.

 

Sometimes you wondered what on Earth other people must think as they watched your veritable _battalion_ of suits sit with you in the library. _Maybe they think I’m in a witness protection program! That would be kind of cool. Or that I work for the_ _CIA_. Anything really, to distract or downplay the fact that you sat at an empty table.

 

…

 

You had come home from classes one Saturday, looking forward to a day off from schooling as you waved goodbye to the group that had escorted you to your front gate. “I can take it from here guys, drive safe!” You tried your best to always be decent to the people watching out for you, figuring that this glorified babysitting was way more embarrassing for them than it was for you. After all, these were individuals with _actual_ training! They hadn’t grown up in a plush house with someone to take care of their needs and parents that loved them, you were fairly sure.

 

You punched in the code, unlocked the front door and stepped in, hanging up your coat and quickly taking off your shoes. There were house rules, after all. You made your way to the kitchen for your after-school snack once you did your usual check to make sure that the security system was armed, then froze in the doorway when you realized you weren’t alone. And not in the usual, _the foursome shifts overlapped_ kind of way!

 

A young man with a prominent blond streak in his brown hair was hanging _upside-down_ by his knees from one of the stylistically-exposed rafters in the kitchen, absently swinging himself back and forth like it was the most normal thing in the world. You stared for what felt like forever, utterly confused.

 

“Um…excuse me?” Your voice made his head turn in your direction and he dropped gracefully to the island below him, somehow managing to land with hardly any noise. “W-Who are you?” Brown eyes focused on your face as he quickly stalked on all fours over the counter, heading for you. You went to back up, suddenly terrified for your life, and you ended up backing into someone. Instinctively beginning to apologize, you half-turned to bolt and a set of arms wrapped around your waist, immobilizing you.

 

“ _Easy_ , you’re safe.” Said a voice that was so gravelly it sent a shiver through your body. “Rollins, knock it off. They’re shakin’ like a leaf.” The man who had spoken was tall with fierce blue eyes and messy blond hair, his jaw coated with a day’s worth of growth. He looked at you curiously. “You okay, kid?”

 

“Aw, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Rollins apologized as he got down from the counter. “Was just having some fun.”

 

“W-Why are you in my house? Who are you people?!” You began struggling frantically in the other man’s grip. “Let me go! Don’t touch me!”

 

The blond chuckled and released you, your sudden freedom making you stumble forward. “Your parents hired us full-time. Said you needed some protection. You ought to have a notification about it.”

 

“I…” You whipped out your phone, moving to check your normally-barren text messages. Sure enough, there was a new one from your father. You could see Rollins shifting back and forth as you read. _Their names are Dean, Seth, and Roman_. “I just…please don’t touch me.” You said nervously.

 

“Yeah, _I_ scared them?” Rollins huffed indignantly. “Good going Ambrose.”

 

“Reigns ought to be done by now, where the-” Whatever the blond man was about to say was halted by a loud thud from upstairs. “Oh Christ.” He groaned. Rollins beckoned for you to follow as Ambrose headed off towards the grand staircase. “Fuck _me_ Roman, if you broke something…”

 

“I tripped! All I did was trip. It’s just really empty in here.” Protested a third man from the top of the stairs. “Echoes. Oh! They’re home. Hey.” He offered a nonchalant wave and you waved back dumbly, taking in the smooth black ponytail hanging over his shoulder. And that _tattoo!_ It covered the majority of his right arm and spilled onto his chest beneath his loose tank top. “Oh God, did you see Rollins in the…whoops, you did. I told him he shouldn’t-”

 

“ _Don’t_ start, Reigns.” Rollins growled. “You _encouraged_ my ass.”

 

“I said within reason!” Reigns corrected.

 

“If we could focus for five seconds here, _gentlemen_.” Ambrose whipped back around to face you. “My name is Dean Ambrose. That’s Seth Rollins.” He gestured towards the young man with the blond streak. “And that’s Roman Reigns.” There was a finger aimed at the large man at the top of the staircase. “We’ve been hired to apparently lurk on your every move.” Dean raised an eyebrow. “Your parents didn’t tell us _why_ , but I guess that’s need-to-know information and we don’t _need_.”

 

“S-Somebody broke into our house.” You said shakily. “I’m kind of alone up here, since my last caretaker left. They don’t want me walking to my classes by myself either.”

 

“So pretty standard stuff. A sheltered young person with overprotective parents.” The looks Dean kept giving you made you even _more_ nervous. “Do you keep a copy of your schedule somewhere?”

 

“I found it already, top of the fridge.” Seth produced your folded-up class schedule from his pocket and Ambrose pored over it while you stood there awkwardly. “Not really any points that need attention, honestly.”

 

“I can see that. Reigns, why are you _still_ up there?” Ambrose scolded. “Get down here man.”

 

“Ambrose you’re being kinda’ rude.” Roman pointed out. “We need to explain. They’re obviously confused.”

 

“No no!” You said quickly, determined to not seem like an idiot. “I totally understand.”

 

“See? They’re fine. C’mon.” Ambrose grunted.

 

“Are you sure?” Rollins asked, his brow furrowed as he gave you a worried look. “We don’t mind explaining, if you need it.”

 

“Absolutely. My dad keeps me in the loop.” _That_ was an outright lie. “I guess I just forgot today was the day you guys were showing up, is all.”

 

“You’re really isolated here, y'know.” Dean commented absently after they had huddled up for a minute or two. “Kid like you must have a lot of buddies. We figured you’d come back with your friends or something. ”

 

Your breath caught in your throat.

 

“S-Sometimes I do.” You wanted to be indignant about being called _kid_ , but you were too snagged on the idea of _friends_. The word hurt a little, chipping at parts of you that you’d _thought_ had smoothed over ages ago. “My parents said I should keep most people at arm’s length.” Seth looked like he was about to say something so you quickly offered, “Would you guys like a snack? I…usually once I get out of school I make myself some apple slices with peanut butter.”

 

“Culinary wonders abound with you, huh kid?” Ambrose asked sarcastically.

 

“ _Dean_.” Roman chided. “We’ve already had lunch. Thank you, though.” He continued to you.

 

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to…I’m not used to dealin’ with someone your age.” Dean apologized awkwardly.

 

“If you try to pat me on the head, I _will_ hit you.” You warned and Rollins exploded into laughter. Roman looked shocked and Ambrose’s crooked grin caught you off-guard. “'Someone my age’, _please_. Someone who’s an _adult?_ You’ve never dealt with an _adult_ before?”

 

“So there _is_ a personality in there!” Ambrose chuckled. “Was beginning to worry. Nah, we’re just used to dealin’ with old, scared businessmen. Y'know, more wrinkles than skin, _pickled_ in brandy and reeking like cigars. Not used to interactin’ with a person under the age of seventy, except for these fine gentlemen.”

 

“I’ll take you up on your offer. Kinda’ hungry still.” Seth admitted. “Didn’t want to take anything out of the fridge without asking.”

 

“Help yourself, please. My parents have weekly deliveries. It’s a bit _much_ considering it’s just me here.” You ushered him back into the kitchen.

 

_Their names are Dean, Seth, and Roman…_

 

…

 

The three men took some adjusting to.

 

_That’s an understatement_ , you thought ruefully as Dean carried on an increasingly-loud conversation with Rollins about Robert Louis Stevenson’s _Kidnapped_. The book in question was open on the table in front of them. You had been _hoping_ to study during your lunch in the library, but instead you were being subjected to what felt like the world’s slowest battle of wits while Rollins asked what _Jacobites_ were for the hundredth time.

 

Maybe it was because you knew the source material of their discussion so well, or maybe it was because you were _actually trying to study_ , but you found your knuckles whitening on the book you currently held. You’d stumbled across the decks and highlands a thousand times in the shoes of _'young Davie’,_ seeking an escape from the echoing silence of the house around you.

 

Roman was a saving grace in this situation, standing behind both men and pulling strange faces at you over their heads in an effort to get you to laugh. You finally caved in and started to snicker, startling both Seth and Dean into looking up at you. “Sorry, I just…” You floundered for a minute and then buried your flushed face back in the book you’d been trying to read.

 

“Oh shit, we’re in a _library_.” Dean hissed like he’d forgotten. Sometimes the way the three men behaved made you think that they’d never had an official detail in their lives. Your rotating phalanx before they had showed up were men and women who either took themselves seriously or took themselves _too_ seriously.

 

For example, the other day you had awoken to shrill yelling and maniacal laughter. When you stumbled from your room to find out what on earth was going on, you ended up running smack into a fleeing Ambrose with Reigns hot on his heels. Dean practically _giggled_ into your neck as you laid there underneath him, still half-asleep and confused while his arms wrapped around you and gripped tightly.

 

Roman picked the _both_ of you up as he grabbed Dean by the back of his pants, grunting when Ambrose refused to release you. Seth came whipping around the corner with a towel draped over his hips, looking excessively put-out. In his hand was a cartoonishly-large toy spider. “ _Ambrose!_ ” He was _caterwauling_ and you got the feeling that this arachnid-related torment was nothing new. “How many times do I have to…tell…” Rollins quickly lost steam as his eyes fell to you. A blush began to tint his face and he opened and closed his mouth a few times before finally making an indignant sound and throwing the spider at Ambrose’s back with all his strength.

 

It bounced off harmlessly and landed on the rug, limbs moving feebly back and forth. It was a simple wind-up toy, and you supposed in this instance it _literally_ wound Seth up. A little giggle issued from you when you pointed that out and Roman looked like he had the _barest_ handle on his laughter. Ambrose didn’t even try, just dissolving back into hysterics and burying his face in your shoulder as Seth stormed off angrily.

 

They made it extremely difficult for you to hold them at arm’s length.

 

Each man was endearing in their own way. Roman got you into the habit of finding two exits from every room you were in. “ _Whether you gotta’ make one of 'em yourself is up to you._ ” He had said, glancing pointedly up at the ceiling tiles of the library.

 

Seth showed you a few of his workout routines for when you had extra energy to burn. You had yet to swing from any rafters, of course, but he kept promising that was the next step. “ _You’ll be Keaton-ing before you know it!_ ”

 

Ambrose was rough around the edges and the quietest of the three, though he always had a random tidbit of useful knowledge to share ( _always_ at the strangest times). “ _Eight pounds of pressure per square inch will break a jaw real easy_.” He’d stated out of the blue during one study period, making you nearly choke on your soda. “ _Punch or pinch the throat if you really wanna’ stop a guy, though_.”

 

The funniest part was the way that Roman and Seth always nodded after he spoke, like they were also absorbing the sage advice from their counterpart.

 

“What’s Dean’s story?” You asked Roman curiously one day.

 

“Not one for you to worry about.” Reigns answered, his voice oddly curt. That of course only added fuel to your fire and you resolved to suss out the mysterious tale of Dean’s life.

 

By grilling Seth.

 

“Listen, he’s had a hard time of it. I mean, we all have in our own ways. Dean just deals with it differently.” Rollins said finally after you refused to let up. “It’s been a long road to get to the relatively-cushy setups. We’ve always stuck together though, even when shit got hard or _dangerous_. There’s been a lot of times things fell through. To have this job now…shit, it’s like a dream for us.” He mumbled the last bit, glancing up at you through his hair.

 

He carried on fiddling with a sticky lock on one of the windows in the guest bedroom. It kept giving the security system false readings, usually after two in the morning, which had resulted in more than a few sleepless nights.

 

Roman had _very_ little patience when it came to you waking up during alerts; the large man always gave a two-second warning and if you weren’t upright by then he scooped you into his arms like you were a child, carrying you easily down the stairs to the foyer with Rollins and Ambrose flanking him.

 

One night you weren’t so sure it _was_ a false reading. The window had actually been open, according to a tense Dean. “I don’t like this shit one bit. It’s like someone is fucking with us or feeling us out.” He had growled once Roman left to do a thorough sweep of the upstairs. You sat on the kitchen table, knowing without looking that Rollins was perched on one of the rafters overhead.

 

“Maybe we’re just being paranoid.” Seth suggested. “What if one of the cleaners left it open?”

 

“I feel like we would have noticed, man. I dunno’. We’ll see.” Dean hopped up onto the table beside you, pressing his thigh against your own. “Catch some 'Z’s.” He ordered, like you would instantly pass out upon hearing the command. You shook your head and he grumbled under his breath, pulling you tight to his side after a momentary hesitation. “Look, you don’t have to worry if we’re around.” Ambrose said gruffly. “We got it covered.” His fingers dug into your hair for a second and he began to slowly rub the back of your neck. “We got it covered. Sleep.”

 

“Can’t.” You protested, looking up at him warily. The firm pressure of his hand was so foreign, the casual presence of his thigh against yours an alien sensation. When was the last time you had been touched like this, treated like you were someone to be comforted? Your eyes half-lidded and Ambrose made a satisfied noise.

 

“ _There_ , that’s it. Shh.” He murmured. “You’re safe here with us.”

 

You had lingered there between asleep and awake for what seemed like hours (Roman’s sweeps were _very_ thorough), just allowing Dean to rub your neck and shoulders. When it was finally time to return to bed, you barely remembered Roman’s arms around you.

 

You woke up a little later and drowsily realized you were sandwiched in between the three men, your face snuggled into Roman’s chest and Seth pressed tightly to your back. Ambrose’s arm was flung over Roman’s side, his hand resting on your shoulder.

 

_You’re safe here with us_.

 

…

 

Which was how you’d ended up in this mess, crammed into a dressing room with Seth’s large body protectively shielding your own half-clothed one. You had been in the middle of getting undressed when Seth _vaulted_ over the top of the wall and quickly put a hand on your mouth.

 

“Be _very_ quiet.” He whispered, and you nodded. “There’s a guy out there and he may be looking for you.”

 

You were already scared stiff, it wasn’t much of a stretch to be silent. _Why would he look for_ _ **me?**_

 

“Nothing is gonna’ happen to you while we’re here. Ambrose spotted him following you and your mom. Have to see if we can get their security to chase him off without a fuss.” Seth turned to face the door, squaring his shoulders like he was trying to make himself look bigger.

 

His words didn’t do much to alleviate the terror you felt. This was the break-in all over again. Your hands clenched into fists at your sides, tight enough to ache. Seth seemed to notice, because he reached back to take your hand. Hesitated. Then kept going, his fingers loosely wrapping around your wrist. He pulled you closer when you didn’t protest, your cheek resting on his shoulder blade. You could feel his back rise and fall with his breathing, the thudding of his heart nearly drowning out everything else.

 

There was a noise from outside the door and Seth tensed, his hold tightening on you. You wished you could disappear into the floor, just curl up into yourself and vanish. Seth flinched when the door handle gave a sudden _click!_ as the lock disengaged. You couldn’t see over his shoulder so you grabbed his hand, squeezing it as tight as you could. _I’m sorry, I’m so sorry_ -

 

“It’s us, man. They got him.” Roman said quietly.

 

Seth turned and exhaled a long breath of relief as Roman’s arm slung over one shoulder and Dean’s draped over the other. Like they had planned it, the three men drew you into a hug. You didn’t realize you were crying until Dean smeared a tear off your cheek, looking more worried than you’d ever seen him. “You don’t need to be scared when we’re around.” He grumbled. “How many times we gotta’ tell you that?”

 

“I’m sorry, I just-”

 

“Shh, keep trying stuff on.” Rollins interrupted softly. “I’m sure your mom will be over any second now and the last thing we want is her thinking something is up.”

 

Ambrose stepped back, his eyes narrowed to bright blue slits. “What do you mean, _somethin’?_ ”

 

“You know exactly what he means man, knock it off.” Roman bumped Dean with his shoulder. “We’re in a dressing room with them and they’re half-naked. Because Lord knows none of us have any sort of _restraint_ , we just go straight primal.” He huffed.

 

Ambrose grabbed a dress off the wall at random and quickly unzipped the back of it for you. “Here.”

 

“I-I don’t even _like_ th-that one.” You protested tremulously, making Roman snort.

 

“It’s _irrelevant_ , she’s gonna’ put you into something you hate and you know it. All you are is a goddamn doll to her.” Dean snapped, the words hitting you hard. “Besides, what’s wrong with it? S’ that princess cut. _Everyone_ likes a princess cut.”

 

“Why do you-!” _Now_ you wanted to argue, how _dare_ he say something like that about your mother? _The woman I barely know_. What an audacious assumption!

 

“Not important. Color is godawful, but nothing we can do about that.” Dean shook the bunch of fabric at you impatiently. “C’mon.”

 

“I feel stupid.” You complained even as you stepped into the skirt.

 

“Trust me, no matter how you _feel_ , you look even dumber.” Dean promised, making Seth slap him on the arm. “ _What_ Rollins, s'just a joke, we all know they look fine no matter what they’re wear…” Dean’s sentence trailed off as he zipped the back of the dress up and his eyes met yours in the mirror for the longest second of your life. “…ing.”

 

A knock on the dressing room door made all of you jump. “Honey, you doing okay in there? I have a _bunch_ more for you to try!” Seth started mouthing swears, all but windmilling his arms.

 

_I need to be a diversion_ , you realized suddenly.

 

You put your finger to your lips and reached for the door handle. “Actually Mom,” You began slowly, opening the dressing room door _just_ enough to slip out. “I was wondering if there was something in this style, but a different color?” You circled your mother so she turned her back to the dressing room, swirling the skirt of the dress around your legs. “I like this one, it’s just the _color_.” You grimaced, trying not to watch Seth and Dean slink out of the dressing room and flee down the hallway back to the store. Roman winked at you before following the other two men and you felt yourself start to blush, your fingers twisting the skirt nervously.

 

Your mother clapped her hands together, seeming weirdly excited. _All she wants is a doll to dress up, all you are is a doll to her._ Dean’s words sat in your stomach like a brick. _Not her kid, just a toy_. “Of course honey! What color did you have in mind?”

 

…

 

The gala was shaping up to be a royal pain. Every time you turned around there was another person you needed to be introduced to, another person who got to react strangely to your parents announcing that they had a fully-grown child. Had you been _aware_ that you were such a closely-guarded secret, you would have opted to stay that way. As such, you were stuck clumsily trekking through unfamiliar posturing and niceties. Your face already ached from smiling.

 

The worst part was that your father had given your security trio the night off. “ _You boys go have fun, alright? Our treat. You’ve worked hard enough. Hope our little one wasn’t too much trouble_.” Your father had said grandly, like you weren’t standing _right there_.

 

“ _We’ll report back by eight o’ clock tomorrow morning,_ _sir_.” Was all Roman had said in reply.

 

Dean and Seth both remained silent while your father blustered “ _that’s too early,_ ” and “ _I want you boys to enjoy_ _yourselves!_ ” You had never noticed how much your father stank of cigar smoke until you saw Seth’s nostrils flare and Ambrose seemed downright _twitchy_ while dealing with the older man, his whole body tense.

 

“ _Eight o’ clock_. _Sir_.” Roman repeated sternly.

 

You longed for the comfort their company brought you, the safety you felt when you caught sight of a suit out of the corner of your eye. You were nervous, _so_ nervous, still confused about the man in the shop the other day. _Why would he have been looking for me?_ The evidence you’d gathered tonight alone seemed to indicate that no one even knew you existed. _What if he was a hitman, sent to kill me? What if I’m in danger right this second?_ You glanced around furtively. _Everyone_ looked suspicious to you, well-dressed men and women clustered in their little groups. Maybe you read too many murder mysteries. _What if my parents are secretly not my parents at all, but_ _ **robots?!**_

 

“Ah, have you met our child? Honey, come here.” Your mother’s sweet tone interrupted your frantic thought process and you whipped around, tacking your smile back on quickly so you could interact with more people you would ( _hopefully_ ) never see again.

 

“They are remarkably plain for being _your_ child, my dear.” The older woman standing by your mother sniffed. “I would have thought the two of you could muster up someone a bit more… _striking_.”

 

“Hey easy, they take after me!” Your father chuckled, a heavy hand landing on your shoulder. You felt like the room was too small. “What did you expect? We sure as heck weren’t keeping some _beauty_ cooped up in that place after all!” His laugh was a sharp guffaw that made you flinch. “Nope, brainiac through and through, this one! But I think they clean up pretty good.” He cupped your chin and turned your head to the side, displaying your perfectly-applied makeup. “The wife works miracles, am I right?”

 

That was it. That was _it_. You jerked your face out of his hand and if looks could kill, he would have been on the eleven o’ clock news. Your father shifted back, seeming concerned. “ _Don’t_.” Was all you said through your clenched teeth before you made your daring escape.

 

Slowly, tripping over the skirt of your dress as you fought your way through the groups of people and tried your hardest not to cry.

 

While your mother had been doing your makeup and prattling away with your father you’d felt like a princess, like they might actually love you and care about you, like their absence had been a misunderstanding. You stayed quiet and let the conversation wash over you, just listening to your parents talk to one another.

 

_Like I wasn’t even there_.

 

Your lower lip quivered as you stumbled out into one of the many hallways that branched out from the main room like a rabbit warren. Everything was so unfamiliar. More than anything you wished you were home right now, curled up in your bed with a good book.

 

_Someone_ grabbed your arm as you passed a shadowy alcove in the hallway and you lashed out for the person’s throat like Ambrose had taught you, savagely gratified when you heard a muffled grunt after your hand connected. A set of black-framed glasses tumbled to the floor, knocked loose by your enthusiastic movement.

 

“Christ.” Seth gasped, rubbing his neck as he stepped forward into the light. “Go easy on a guy, will you?”

 

You were unable to keep from lunging at him, wrapping your arms around his waist and clinging to him silently. Your tears started to soak the fabric of his shirt as he paused, then hugged you back.

 

“Easy, easy, it’s okay. We’re getting you out of here.” He murmured once you let him go, patting around on the carpet for his glasses. “Didn’t mean to scare you.” The frames settled back onto his nose. You had never seen him with his glasses on. And in his street clothes for the first time since the day you’d met, his _painted on_ skinny jeans! It was strange, like there was a part of him you didn’t know. Logically that _was_ true, you didn’t exactly ask what he did in his free time. “Reigns and Ambrose are around the block. You ready?” Seth held out his hand and you took it without a second of hesitation, making him give you a happy, boyish grin.

 

…

 

“Look at that! Somehow you managed to spirit Cinderella away from the ball before the clock struck twelve, right out from under the noses of their evil parents!” Dean praised Rollins, “Back to your princes where you belong, eh gorgeous?” His teasing tone differed so much from your father’s; you rolled your eyes when he called you ’ _gorgeous_ ’.

 

“Alright, everyone in the car.” Roman ordered. They were _all_ wearing their street clothes and you took the opportunity to appraise the three, enjoying what you saw. Seth, of course, filled out his skinny jeans to perfection, but Roman and Dean weren’t far behind. Roman wore a simple zip-up sweatshirt with a loose pair of jeans, his long hair tucked up into a baseball cap. Ambrose had on a leather jacket and a set of jeans that somehow made his waist look even trimmer than usual. They looked good. _Relaxed_.

 

“How did you guys know I was in trouble?” You asked from your spot between Dean and Seth in the backseat.

 

Roman snorted loudly as he shifted gears. “You’ve barely been socialized your entire life and now all of a sudden you’re expected to deal with a whole damn party of people? I’m impressed you survived as long as you did.”

 

“Where are we going?”

 

“Surprise!” Seth said quickly as Dean opened his mouth. “It’s a surprise. You’ll see.”

 

The surprise was _apparently_ a bowling alley. You hung back behind the wall of Roman at the front counter, clinging to his hand as you felt shy and awkward. You must look so _ridiculous_ , dressed up in this silly gown while the three men with you were in normal clothes.

 

A pair of arms wrapped around your waist and then Dean rested his cheek on the top of your head, swaying you back and forth as he waited for Roman to finish paying for their lane and shoes. Seth was bouncing up and down beside you like a small child, accepting his shoes from Roman with an excited whoop and bolting for the lane. “He’s such a kid sometimes.” Dean grumbled, his words laced with fondness.

 

Roman nodded in agreement, the side of his mouth tugging up in a smile. His hand slid to the small of your back and he guided you over to the chairs by the lane. Seth was already busily tapping names into the display board while you tried to get your dress out of the way to put on your shoes. “I don’t know if I’ll…” You trailed off as Dean knelt in front of you and helped you escape your elaborate party shoes, the blond man chuckling when he saw your Batman-patterned no-show socks. “What?” You asked defensively, “My mom said I had to put on nylons, she didn’t say I couldn’t wear anything over them.”

 

“How many other workarounds you got, gorgeous?” Ambrose asked with a grin. “I feel like we could all learn somethin’ tonight.”

 

“I’m not allowed to wear tank tops, but they never mentioned sleeveless shirts.”

 

Roman laughed incredulously. “What do they have against _tank tops?_ Those are ninety-five percent of my wardrobe.”

 

“The skin that they show.” You shrugged and Dean looked up at you, his large hand cupping under your calf so he could wiggle one of the bowling shoes on. “I can’t have ice cream after eleven. Frozen yogurt isn’t ice cream.”

 

“Alright, we’re all set. Prepare to be crushed, Roman!” Seth announced as the board overhead went live.

 

…

 

You were delivered safely to your parent’s house some time between one and two in the morning. The house was dark and silent, like always, and Roman set you down in the foyer while Dean fumbled for the light switch. It didn’t appear that your parents were back yet. Seth urged you up the stairs to your room while you yawned and rubbed your eyes, those terrible heels abandoned by the door so you could actually manage the stairs in the first place.

 

“Bathroom first, we need to get your war paint off.” Roman said softly once you entered your room. Obediently you kept moving to the smaller room, faintly entertained when all three men followed into the tight space.

 

Seth took the washcloth from you and you just sat there propped up against the sink, letting him carefully rid you of the layers of smooth foundation and bright eyeshadow. “There, that’s better.” He said with a gentle smile. “You’re so beautiful.”

 

“Pretty with, pretty without.” Ambrose agreed, scooping you up off the sink counter. You were certain you were dreaming at this point and so you let yourself be carried back into the bedroom, resting your cheek on his shoulder. Dean laid you down on your bed and rolled you onto your stomach, slowly unzipping the dress you wore. “Shh, it’s alright.” He murmured when you shivered, his fingers trailing down the bare skin of your back. “You’re safe.”

 

A bearded mouth pressed a kiss to your shoulder blade, whether it was Roman or Seth you couldn’t tell. You hummed, arching your back and snuggling down into the bedspread as more kisses landed. “Sleep good.” Roman’s voice rumbling was the last thing you could remember before you drifted off.

 

…

 

It became a ritual of sorts between the four of you. At least twice a month they would take a 'day off’ and essentially loose you upon the unsuspecting populace. You attempted rollerblading and played laser tag, one time you even _danced_ with Ambrose at some weird exercise class Rollins had signed all of you up for. There was always a competition between Roman and Seth, both men striving to one-up and improve each other. It led to some entertaining moments, like the both of them grappling at the top of a rock-climbing wall while Dean hollered _just kiss already!_

 

You learned slowly along the way how to interact with other people. You were pretty sure your professor jumped out of his skin when you started raising your hand in class, and your _classmates_ looked at you like you had fourteen heads. It was incredibly satisfying to find out that you could engage with other people the way Dean, Seth and Roman engaged with you. Of course, this also led to _much_ more awkwardness than you would prefer. You hadn’t realized that speaking up in class would put you on the proverbial map.

 

“Can I sit here?” The young man asking didn’t wait for your stammered reply before making himself comfortable at your table in the library. “Now, I’ve seen you around and I never really caught your name. You’re kinda’ cute, so I’d appreciate it if you rectified that.”

 

You shook your head, confused at how rude he was being.

 

He grunted, seeming a bit startled. “Well, _my_ name is-”

 

“Irrelevant.” Came the growl from Dean behind you. “Your name is irrelevant.”

 

“Hey, what’s with the posse? Everyone’s dying to know.” The young man changed tactics, unwisely glossing over Ambrose’s interruption. “I mean, we all figured you must be mute or some shit and that these clowns were-”

 

Seth hoisted him up by the back of his hoodie and unceremoniously dumped him out of the chair, settling into the seat with his coffee still intact. “Heya’ gorgeous, miss me?” He asked, winking at you while you flushed bright red. “Reigns is coming, he had to find the _good_ Subway. The one that doesn’t skimp on their meat, y'know.” Rollins was the picture of insolence. Sometimes you wondered if he cultivated the image or if it came naturally to him. “For our date tonight, the boys and I were thinking a movie? Although this super cool trampoline place just opened up across town, so if you’re up for it..”

 

Rollins words faded into background static to you.

 

_Date._

 

_Our date tonight_.

 

_Oh my God_.

 

“Hey, you in there?” Dean’s hand waved in front of your eyes and you snapped back into focus.

 

“Yes! Sorry, I just…sorry.” You mumbled.

 

“If that guy upset you we can go get him to apologize.” Ambrose’s tone had darkened and you quickly took his hand.

 

“No no! C’mon, you guys are professionals. You can’t just go around strong-arming random people.” You reasoned, “Might look a little weird, you know?”

 

“Fine. He gets off with a warning this time.” Seth grumbled, reaching across the table to fist bump Dean. “Next time though. _Oh_ , next time.”

 

A movie was voted on once Roman returned from getting his lunch, the three of them chatting in hushed tones while you toyed with the book in front of you.

 

_Our date._ Is that what had been happening this whole time? You were so confused. Weren’t you just their detail? _Why would they bring me along on their off time though?_

 

_Our date_.

 

…

 

The movie had been enjoyable. You couldn’t actually remember what it was about for the life of you, though.

 

Seth’s hand had stayed on your thigh for most of it, his leg tucked up against your own. As if that wasn’t distracting enough, Roman had wrapped an arm around your shoulders. _Then_ , Ambrose (who had camped out in the row behind you) put his hand on the back of your neck over Roman’s arm and massaged the area absently.

 

Some part of you wondered whether this was appropriate behavior but a much louder part of you clamored for the attention. You were more than flustered by the time the credits rolled, bolting to your feet. “I…bathroom!” You stammered, quickly stepping over Roman’s legs and almost falling down the steps to the exit of the theater.

 

“Wait!” Seth called, but you didn’t bother stopping to see whether they were following you. Checking the signs to look for a bathroom, you hurried along as fast as you could.

 

Upon reaching the relative quiet of the restroom, you tried to collect yourself. Your face was all red, your body shaking a little while you patted at your flushed skin with a damp paper towel. _What’s wrong with me?_ You stared at your reflection critically in the mirror, holding the edge of the sink tightly. Deep breaths surged in and our of your lungs as you did your best to calm your racing pulse, tried to get your knees to stop trembling.

 

Understanding suddenly hit you like a bolt of lightning, your eyes widening. You could barely believe your own thoughts. _The_ _ **three**_ _of them?!_ Your heart leaped in your chest. _The three of them_. You stood stock-still for a minute and then nodded at yourself, scowling fiercely. _The three of them_.

 

You tossed the paper towel away, tried your damnedest to straighten your clothes out a bit and then opened the door to confront your security. Your friends. Your–

 

The young man from the library earlier was leaned against the opposite wall, his expression decidedly smug. “I _thought_ I saw you. Where’s your groupies?” He asked, glancing around. You cursed your own stupidity as he pushed himself off the wall and loped towards you.

 

“They’re…they’re going to be here any second.” But you couldn’t even convince _yourself_ , never mind this oversized creep.

 

The young man nodded, pursing his lips. “Guess that means I’ve got a time limit. S’okay.” His fists pressed to the wall on either side of your head, his large form looming over yours. You wanted to punch him in the jaw ( _eight pounds of pressure per square inch_ ) but fear snapped like an iron band around your chest, squeezing off your breath. “What, you too stuck up to talk to me? All I wanna’ know is your _name_.” He complained, sounding irritated. His hands shifted to your shoulders and you flinched without meaning to, hating the way he smiled at your obvious terror.

 

_**This**_ _is why people need to be kept at arm’s length_.

 

You weren’t exactly sure what happened next. One second the guy was towering over you, smirking. You dimly heard the thunder of footsteps that he didn’t seem to notice. You wanted to close your eyes as the guy leaned in but then there was this blur of motion that launched shoulder-first into the young man’s side and flattened him.

 

“You _do not_ touch them!” Roman shouted once he got back to his feet, his chest heaving. “Only _we_ can touch them!” His words were laden with an irrational fury, a blinding outrage that you wished you could borrow to keep your body from shaking.

 

_Only_ _ **we**_ _can touch them_.

 

_Yes_ , your traitorous mind begged, _a thousand times yes!_

 

“Gorgeous, you with us?” Dean asked, seeming frantic as he pressed his forehead to your own. “Sorry we’re late.” He apologized. Rollins wrapped you in a tight hug and you shivered against his chest, overwhelmed. “There’s restrooms left and right, guess we picked the wrong direction first.”

 

“What did he do?” Rollins questioned, his voice level.

 

“I just…I didn’t want to be touched.” You whispered. “That’s all. I didn’t want to be touched. I’m okay.” The words didn’t seem to be able to keep from repeating and you mumbled them under your breath. _Didn’t want to be touched. Didn’t want to be touched_.

 

“Are you _sure?_ ” Ambrose’s hands smoothed over your shoulders and you made a little sound of distress. “Roman, get over here.” He ordered, making Roman look up from his staring contest with the young man on the ground. “We need to leave.”

 

“But I was-”

 

“ _No_ , Reigns. We need to go home.” Dean was demanding at this point. “Now.”

 

Roman frowned, but slowly returned to your side. “Can you move?” The question caught you off guard and you nodded. “Okay. Can you walk?” That one was a bit harder to answer. You tried taking a step and your foot instantly dragged on the rug. You fumbled to grab Seth’s shoulder again.

 

“What’s wrong with me?” You asked, your own voice sounding distant and tinny to your ears. A hand gently caught your chin and tilted it back up. You had been drifting downward without realizing it. Everything was so heavy all of a sudden. _Didn’t want to be touched. Didn’t want to be touched_.

 

“He’s not gonna’ touch you ever again.” Roman snarled. You must have said it out loud again instead of thinking it.

 

“Just us.” It was Rollins this time who easily picked you up in his arms, obviously hell-bent on ignoring the looks from the other patrons that you were _sure_ you were getting. “Only us.” He kissed your forehead. “Only us.”

 

You hid your face in his neck, closing your eyes and trying to even out your breathing. _I’m safe. Didn’t want to be touched. I’m safe now. It’s okay. Only them. It’s okay if it’s them._ Your fingers twisted desperately into Seth’s shirt and he cleared his throat when you mouthed clumsily over the skin of his neck.

 

“Hey, whatcha’ doing?” Seth’s voice had a strange rasp to it that made hope surge in your belly. “I uh…oh.” He paused. “ _Oh_.”

 

“Only us.” Ambrose seemed to understand what was going on, detaching your fingers from Seth’s shirt so he could kiss your hand. “Only us.”

 

“Yes.” You whimpered.

 

There was a breathless noise from Roman, a short mutter of, “ _Fuck_ , us?”

 

“Keep you safe no matter what.” Seth gasped as you crooned into his neck. “With or without this, you know that.”

 

“I know.” You breathed. “Thank you.”

 

Ambrose unlocked the car and Seth carefully sat you in the middle of the backseat, waiting until you had your seat belt on before getting in beside you. His mouth was on yours abruptly, facial hair rubbing your skin in a way that you had never experienced before. Roman got in on the other side, beginning to press kisses to your neck and jaw. You keened softly, stroking your fingers through Seth’s hair as Roman’s mouth laced a hot trail down your throat to your shoulder.

 

“Seatbelts.” Ambrose sounded a little dazed. “ _Damn_ , that is a pretty sight.”

 

You blushed and Seth groaned into your mouth. “Jesus Christ you are so _fucking_ _cute_ when you do that.”

 

“It’s sexy as hell. You’ve got no right.” Roman agreed, tugging the neck of your shirt a little further out of his way. “The way you get all flustered over Seth, the way you nudge your nose into my chest when you want some attention, the way you beg Ambrose to rub your neck. You’re…fuck, you’re adorable.”

 

“I do not _beg!_ ” You protested.

 

Dean’s chuckle was low, like a rumble of satisfaction. “You might not notice it. You might not _purposely_ do it. Maybe.” He allowed, smirking at you in the rearview mirror. “But you definitely do it.”

 

“Hey, I don’t blame you. He’s got great hands.” Roman winked at Dean. “Big asset in our trio.”

 

You wondered about that for a second, _especially_ when Dean’s smirk turned into a full-blown grin. “I mean, I don’t wanna’ _brag_ or nothin’.”

 

Seth was enthusiasm personified, while Roman was more methodical. Between the two of them you were an absolute mess by the time Ambrose pulled into the driveway, your body quivering with a need you had never put a name to.

 

Your bed always seemed so huge when it was just you. But with three other men on it, suddenly there was barely enough room. You arched up against Seth, whining into his mouth when he slipped a hand beneath your skirt. “Fucking _Christ_ , your noises, I just-” He stopped dead and you were scared you’d done something wrong. Maybe being this eager was a mistake? “ _Fuck_.” Seth said finally. “Ambrose?”

 

“S’up?”

 

“Fingers. You’re better at this. They’re…” Seth trailed off, inhaling and dragging a hand through his hair.

 

“ _Oh_.” Dean tugged Seth’s belt, moving him to one side.

 

You propped yourself up on your elbows, concerned now. “What is it?” You asked, wishing you could keep the tremor out of your voice.

 

“Nothin’, gorgeous, absolutely nothin’. It’s just a preference.” Dean explained, “Rollins has a hard time with keepin’ himself under control if it’s delicate work and…I mean I’m making a bold assumption here, but I’m _guessing_ you haven’t exactly had a lot of stuff happen in your pants. He can be a little… _gangbusters_.”

 

You felt like your face must be neon red. Roman laughed at your expression, humming into your mouth as you kissed him. “Ambrose will be good to you.” He assured when you pulled away for breath. “He knows what he’s doing.”

 

“ _Christ_ , that barely matters, they’re fuckin’ soaked through their panties.” Ambrose clapped a hand to the side of your thigh, pushing your skirt up out of his way. “You are just _dripping_ , Jesus. Can I taste? Wanna’ taste.” He asked, his smile dimpling his cheeks. “Wanna’ lick you, touch you. Make you come.”

 

“B-But I’m…what if you don’t like how I taste?” You fretted.

 

Roman fairly _roared_ with laughter, like you had just told the funniest joke in the world. “Ambrose-” He wheezed, smacking the other man on the shoulder.

 

Dean snickered into the skin of your thigh, dragging your panties down and slingshotting them absently across the room. “Not a chance in hell.” He said firmly.

 

Rollins moaned at Dean’s words, his jeans doing nothing to hide his arousal. Bravely you reached out to Seth, your fingers sliding his shirt up so you could touch his side. “When you held my thigh,” You began carefully. “Did you want to do something more than that?”

 

Seth jerked his head down to look at you. “I…” He licked his lips nervously. “I um. If you wanted it, y-yeah.” He admitted. “I like touching you.”

 

“And when you put your arm around me?” You looked up at Roman.

 

“Do you have any idea how hard it is to _not_ kiss you? We’re professionals but you sure as hell didn’t make anything easy for us.” Roman reached over you to boldly fondle Seth through his jeans, making the other man squirm and bite his lip. “Any idea how many times we all had to have a good long talk with one another about you? About the fact that we are _human_ , yeah, but we’re not assholes.” Reigns shrugged, taking your hand and bringing it to cup Seth’s prominent bulge. “Your safety is the number one priority here.” He continued, like Seth wasn’t panting breathy little sobs while Roman guided your hand back and forth.

 

Ambrose’s tongue on your clit was like a jolt of electricity, no one had _ever_ -! You cried out, startled at the intensity of the sensation. Ambrose hummed against you, the sound rolling through your body. One finger gently teased over your entrance, almost like how you would do it yourself when you were alone.

 

“Gorgeous.” Seth murmured.

 

“You’re tight as fuck.” Ambrose pulled back to say, his finger slipping into you. His chin was glistening with your arousal and you didn’t know how you managed it but you flushed redder than before. “Oh, and you taste fine.” He added nonchalantly before adding a second finger.

 

Roman ran his hand through Dean’s hair and started urging you on. “You fuck his fingers, got it gorgeous? Fuck his fingers and soak his tongue, that’s what he loves.” Dean moaned against you and you gasped, rolling your hips up. “That’s it, _look_ at you fucking tremble, God. Move those hips, fuck him good.” Dean curled his fingers up inside of you, nudging your clit with his nose and that was all it took for you to come. You cried out again and writhed underneath Dean’s attentive ministrations, _feeling_ more than hearing Seth’s groan of approval as you panted for breath.

 

“You want Seth, yeah?” Roman was asking you a question, waiting until you nodded dazedly before smiling down at you. “ _God_ , you’re perfect. We don’t hand him off to just anyone, y'know.”

 

“Very picky.” Dean mumbled, settling back on his haunches and almost falling off the bed when Roman kissed him hard. “Tastes great, yeah?” He managed to get out in between Roman enthusiastically delving his tongue into his mouth. “M’ rock hard just from that, _fuck_ , Reigns.” He sighed.

 

“Can I? I know Roman already asked, but I want to make sure.” Seth kissed your forehead before you could say anything and you felt your insides melt to pool in your stomach.

 

“Yes, please, please.” You begged, shifting your hips eagerly.

 

Ambrose reached over without looking and easily pulled Seth’s zipper down, snickering at the noise that escaped Rollins. “You gonna’ fuck that cock, like you fucked my fingers? He’s a little thicker than my fingers.” Dean teased, “Probably gonna’ have a hard time getting that cock out of those tight pants of his. He still wears 'em though. He likes tormenting us.”

 

“And _fuck_ , is it torment.” Roman groaned as Dean slid a hand into his basketball shorts. “ _Fucking_ Ambrose, Jesus.”

 

Rollins shoved his jeans down as far as he could before they bunched up and then hooked your knees over his shoulders. “I’m gonna’ go slow. Not going to hurt you, okay? You’re safe with us.” He promised, pressing his forehead to yours and staring into your eyes. “Safe.”

 

“Okay.” You murmured, looping your arms around his neck. Somehow, _somehow_ , you knew none of them would lie to you. When Seth’s pelvis shifted forward Roman was suddenly there, his mouth on yours and his hands tangled in your hair.

 

“Shh, go slow Seth.” The large man breathed, like he was calming a skittish animal. “Gentle.”

 

Seth nodded and you dug your fingers into his back, feeling the tense muscle ripple under your touch. “Won’t hurt you.” He said through clenched teeth.

 

“I know.” You gasped and Seth dropped his head to rest on your shoulder. “Always keeping me safe.” You stroked his hair and Rollins began to thrust in earnest, causing your slick to dribble out down your thighs. “So good to me.” You sighed.

 

“Fuck, fuck fuck fuck.” Seth grunted. “Can’t say that.”

 

“He likes being _good_.” Dean supplied helpfully, dragging Seth’s head back up so he could lap at the younger man’s neck.

 

“You like that? When you’re _good_ to me?” You asked, keening when Seth sped up even further. Something about him pounding into you while Ambrose mouthed and toyed with him coiled in your belly, Roman helping you along by whispering things in your ear. Things like _so good_ , things like _come for me_. You weren’t sure whether he meant them for you or for Seth but either way you could feel a second orgasm threatening to crest. “ _Seth-!_ ”

 

“I know, I can feel you.” Seth choked out as you came, his body going so still over you. “ _Fuck_ , yes, Christ.” He gasped, closing his eyes and hanging his head.

 

“I got it from here, gorgeous.” Dean grinned, essentially passing you off to Roman after Seth pulled out of you with a low groan. Roman cradled you to his chest, soothing your body back down to a gentle hum after the exertion of moments earlier. You were vaguely aware that Dean was jerking Seth off to finish him, that gravelly voice saying absolutely filthy things that got Seth to beg so nicely for more.

 

“You did so good.” Reigns praised, smiling fondly when you ducked your face shyly into his shirt. “Incredible.”

 

“So tired.” You mumbled, your insides tensing at random as aftershocks raced through your core.

 

“You’re all set for the night, gorgeous. You rest now.” Roman kissed your forehead. “You’re safe. Nothing can happen to you while we’re here.” You snuggled into his large form, exhaustion lulling you to sleep.

 

_You’re safe here with us._

 

_You’re ours. Only ours._

 

_Safe with us_.

 

A bearded set of lips pressed to your ear. Seth’s voice sounded thrashed in the best way possible. “Sleep good, gorgeous.”


	2. Chrismuts Special; Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is part one of two, for the 25 Days Of Chrismuts writing challenge over on Tumblr!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains minor gunplay (non-loaded gun), firearms in general, graphic descriptions of violence, warped recollections (amnesia) and mentions of emotional neglect. Stay safe!]

“Is that a _sniper rifle?!_ ” You yelled in bewilderment, Dean's hand on your shoulder forcing you back down into your seat.

  
  


Seth shrugged from his spot beside you, the _definitely-a-sniper-rifle_ cradled in the crook of his elbow. “Maybe.” He allowed, plastering on a grin so hackneyed it made you wince. “Maybe it’s a toy.”

  
  


“Maybe you ought to quit _talking_ and start _aiming!_ ” Roman shouted from the driver’s seat. “Move it, Rollins!”

  
  


_How_ had you ended up in this mess?!

  
  


...

  
  


The snowfall always looked better from your window. You sighed, sipping on your cup of tea and tugging the tail of your bookmark loose. You had many fond memories of sitting in the little nook your window created, watching the snow come down thick. When you were younger and your parents would call, you often described it to them in excruciating detail.

  
  


_Fond memories_. _**Lonely**_ _fond memories_.

  
  


“Whatcha' reading now, gorgeous?” The familiar wiry frame of Dean Ambrose settled in beside you, and you giggled while he made himself comfortable. “You crammin' for a midterm or somethin'?”

  
  


“No, I just figured I'd catch up on this, uh-” You tried to keep the book out of his hands, but he was too fast. He easily pilfered the volume, squinting at the cover before his eyes widened.

  
  


“ Oh  _ ho _ , this your leisure readin' material?” Dean crowed, laughing raucously and vaulting off the window seat with your book in hand.

  
  


“Hey wait, give that back!” You grabbed onto the leg of his jeans, bringing him to the ground and scrambling over his body to yank the book away from him. You then moved on reflex to incapacitate him, trapping his neck between your thighs and slamming his head against the floor with your body weight and momentum.

  
  


Dean grinned infuriatingly up at you from between your legs, sticking his tongue out in a purposely lewd gesture. “Gettin' pretty good at that, gorgeous! Keep it up and you might have a real shot.”

  
  


“You're such a _jerk!_ ” You growled. “From where I'm sitting, _you're_ the one who's in trouble.”

  
  


“Mm, you'd think that, wouldn't ya'. But the thing is--” Dean's hands slammed shut on your thighs and he pressed your knees even tighter to his shoulders, effectively immobilizing you. “-You're _wide_ open like this, gorgeous.” He smirked, spreading your legs and grabbing your rear to pull you in closer.

  
  


You squealed, smacking him with your book and trying to wedge the volume between his face and your groin. “That's cheating Dean!”

  
  


“ _You're_ the one that put your crotch in my face!” Dean laughed, “What can I say, I'm a hungry guy and you're always _delicious_.” He slid a hand over the curve of your thigh, making your insides go molten when he moaned in his throat. “You smell so good, gorgeous. Taste even fuckin' better.” He muttered, licking his lips.

  
  


“Hey Ambrose, Roman got Ch-” Seth ground to a halt as he pushed open the door and saw the two of you on the floor. “Whoa, my bad! Sorry, I didn't know you guys were, uh, y'know--” He sputtered, obviously flustered.

  
  


“ We're  _ not! _ ”  You huffed.

  
  


“We’re not? Shit, and here I thought we were! Ah well, up I get.” Ambrose shifted your knees over his shoulders and actually _stood_ while holding you, your head bumping the ceiling briefly. You quickly bent down, wrapping your arms around the back of his head.

  
  


“Dean!”

  
  


“Oh, heya’ gorgeous.” Dean mumbled into your stomach, pressing kisses to your shirt while you clung to his face and dug your heels into his shoulder blades. “Weird way of ridin’ piggyback.”

  
  


“Put me _down_ Ambrose!” A pair of hands landed on your hips and eased you back down Ambrose’s body.

  
  


“Dean, you’re such a tease.” Seth grunted. “Don’t be mean.”

  
  


“I ain’t bein’ mean! I wanted to see what they could do. All that training really paid off. They move like a goddamn missile.” Ambrose praised, making you blush.

  
  


“Well, they _did_ learn from the best.” Seth preened.

  
  


“Don’t even _try_ to take all the credit!” You nudged him with your elbow. “I worked hard for this.”

  
  


“You're absolutely right. We're proud of you, gorgeous.” Seth gave you a smile and a kiss on the cheek, “We might even have to recommend you to our boss if you keep improving so fast!”

  
  


“ _Very_ funny. I doubt I'm on a recommendation level for a fast food joint, never mind whatever private security group you guys work for.” You laughed off his comment, noticing that Ambrose looked weirdly uncomfortable. But then he swiped your book again and you quickly forgot about it, trying to reclaim your property as Seth and Dean played keep-away. Things _really_ got out of hand when Dean started reading aloud passages from the book.

  
  


Roman walked in on you shrieking  _ stop reading it and give it back already! _ , the larger man laughing uproariously and plucking the steamy novel from Ambrose's grasp. “You know you don't need to read this crap when we're around, gorgeous. After all, we're available for uh... _ wish fulfillment _ , should the need arise.” His smirk was insufferably smug as he rifled through the pages of the book.

  
  


“ It's not  _ that _ , Roman. I'm studying the kissing parts.” You muttered, folding your arms over your chest. “I'm still so new to this, I need...I figured I should study up so you guys don't get tired of me, is all.” You dug your toes into the plush carpet, studiously avoiding eye contact with the three men. “I know I'm not very good at...well, y'know.”

  
  


Dean's finger slid beneath your chin and he tilted your face up, his thumb resting on your lower lip. “You don't ever need t’ worry about that, gorgeous.” He murmured hoarsely. “We’re here to protect you, an’ we plan to do so for as long as we can. You're one of the group, whether you like it or not.” He stroked your lower lip in a meditative gesture, back and forth, and you found the motion oddly soothing. “You been worryin’ too much.”

  
  


“My modus operandi: I read, I worry.”

  
  


“And you kiss.” Dean breathed. “A few other things besides.”

  
  


“S-Sometimes.” You hated that the four of you had _engaged_ with one another on multiple occasions and yet you still had issues with the simplest of things. It wasn't fair! When would it become easy? When would _you_ get to fluster _them_ with some carefully-chosen words or a casual touch?

  
  


“Don’t worry. This isn't a race, gorgeous.” Seth assured you kindly.

  
  


“It can’t be a race because no one else is in it.” You grumbled. “It’s easy for you guys, this stuff comes natural to you.”

  
  


“You don't know how wrong you are.” Roman said quietly. He looked thoughtful for a minute, then seemed to shake himself out of it. “Hey, c'mon. Enough of this bullshit. I got Chinese food for dinner, and we can watch some of those garbage Christmas movies.”

  
  


“I happen to _like_ those garbage Christmas movies, so you'd better watch your mouth!”

  
  


...

  
  


“C’mon gorgeous, we have to go.” Roman whispered in your ear, his facial hair tickling your sensitive skin. “It’s time to go.”

  
  


“Go? Bu’ where?” You slurred, firmly entrenched in the grip of sleep. You barely remembered being carried up to bed after a marathon of sappy movies. Roman sighed heavily and then wrapped the blanket around your body, lifting you after a moment.

  
  


“We gotta’ move, Reigns.” You dimly heard Ambrose grunt. Roman hushed him while you snuggled into his chest.

  
  


Without warning the intruder alarm started blaring, startling you wide awake. You felt Roman flinch and Dean swore.

  
  


Seth was suddenly at Reigns’ elbow, _where_ had he even come from? “Twenty seconds. Attic breach.” He whispered, leaning his weight on the door to your room and carefully opening it. “Two at a time the stairs. Remember how many there are.”

  
  


Roman nodded. “Ambrose, take offensive point. Rollins, you’re on flank.”

  
  


“Nothing is getting past me.” Seth muttered.

  
  


“Guys, what’s happening?” You whispered.

  
  


None of them answered your question and you fell silent, clinging tightly to your blanket. There was a crash upstairs, like someone had knocked something over in the cluttered attic. Dean bolted out the door, heading in the direction of the attic stairs.

  
  


Rollins all but hung off of Roman’s arm. “We waiting or leaving?” He asked.

  
  


“We’ll wait in the SUV.” Roman’s voice sounded oddly strained. “I’m not leaving Ambrose behind.”

  
  


“He should have stayed in for-”

  
  


“ _I said_ , I’m not leaving him behind. He's on offensive point.” Roman snarled. Seth fell silent. “We’re not leaving him behind while I’m here, Rollins. We’re moving out. Run flank like you’re _supposed_ to and there shouldn’t be any problems.”

  
  


You got the feeling that there was some previous situation being brought up, maybe during the rough stint that Rollins had mentioned.

  
  


“ _ It’s been a long road to get to the relatively-cushy setups. We’ve always stuck together though, even when shit got hard or dangerous. There’s been a lot of times things fell through. _ ”

  
  


Roman held you a little tighter when he left the room, his body tense. Just as he reached the stairs, a door slammed loudly. That seemed to seal it for the large man. He _lunged_ down the stairs, three at a time with Rollins doing an odd sidestep hot on his heels. You buried your face in his chest, terrified beyond belief. If this was something that had _them_ spooked…

  
  


Into the kitchen, out the side door to the garage, Roman bypassed your rarely used sports car and instead headed for the navy blue SUV that Ambrose had dubbed ‘ _ The Grand Bandwagon _ ’ . “In, in, buckle up.” He panted, sliding you across the backseat. You quickly did as he asked, watching Rollins deadbolt the kitchen door and then scramble to the SUV.

  
  


“Drive around to the rendezvous point, it’s a straight shot out the window for him and he knows his evac routes.” He hissed to Roman, who nodded. You tucked your knees up to your chest, shivering with fear (and cold, December was not known for its balmy weather).

  
  


The garage door eased up, one of the tracks squeaking loudly. Roman climbed into the driver’s seat and Seth slid onto the bench seat beside you. “We’ve trained for this. It’s going to be fine.” He assured you. “Just remember what we taught you and we'll take care of the rest.”

  
  


Roman didn’t turn the engine on, instead taking off the parking brake and letting the car roll out of the garage in neutral. “Here’s hoping that gate at the bottom of the hill isn’t too stiff from the cold.” He muttered.

  
  


“ More like ‘ _ here’s hoping Ambrose makes it _ ’ .” Seth replied, sounding sulky.

  
  


“Here’s hoping I don’t punch you in the mouth.” Roman growled.

  
  


“Hey guys? Not _exactly_ instilling a lot of confidence with your bickering.” You finally piped up.

  
  


“Sorry.” Seth apologized after a moment. “I’m…I always feel so guilty when it comes to-”

  
  


“I know. I’m sorry for snapping at you. Still defensive, I guess.” Roman replied ruefully. “Old habits.” The SUV silently inched through the gate, past a group of small, dark-colored vehicles. “Your parents gave us a few weeks off, y’know.” Roman continued to you. “Told us almost a month back: ‘ _You boys go enjoy yourselves, it’ll be nearly Christmas_ _and we always take our child on vacation_ ’. The email's exact words.” He was watching you in the rearview mirror, like he was waiting to see your reaction.

  
  


You shook your head, utterly confused. “They don’t bring me anywhere. _Especially_ not after what happened at the gala.”

  
  


“ We noticed.” Seth said grimly. “These guys must think we’re as dumb as we look.” You weren’t sure what on earth he meant by  _ that _ .

  
  


The SUV had reached the road at this point, and Roman cautiously turned the key further to start the car. The engine _roared_ to life. You remembered Dean’s proud announcement of, “ _came straight from the line with over 700 horses, I tuned it up even tighter for extra asswhuppin’_.”

  
  


Reigns grimaced. “It’s louder than before, Christ.”

  
  


“ Ambrose knows his stuff.” Rollins said by way of agreement, his fingers tapping away at the seat cushions beside your hand. “May not know how to keep that stuff  _ quiet _ , but he knows it.” Over the idling engine you heard several loud popping noises. Roman gritted out a curse. “It’s fine, it’s fine.” Seth took your hand, squeezing it a little too tightly. The darkness outside the vehicle was broken by the faint lights from your house up on the hill. You could only just see several forms moving around in the many windows.

  
  


“What’s happening, Seth?” You asked softly. More popping met your ears, closer this time.

  
  


“He’s coming, it’ll be okay.” Seth said, not meeting your eyes and instead shooting a worried look at Roman as the larger man unbuckled his seat belt. “Roman, don’t-”

  
  


“If he’s hurt…Seth, we can’t leave him. _I’m_ not leaving him.” Roman said, the slight tremor in his voice betraying his stoic act.

  
  


“He’s not dumb enough to get hurt, man. Put your seat belt back on. He’s gonna’ make it. Nobody knows the plan better than--”

  
  


The front passenger door was suddenly ripped open from the outside, making everyone jump. Seth had his arm in front of you and Roman had his handgun drawn before your brain could really register the motions. “Now now big fella’, you wouldn’t blow a hole in _my_ skull, wouldja’?” rasped a familiar voice.

  
  


Roman holstered his gun and all but dragged Ambrose into the SUV, burying his face in the other man’s hair for a moment. “ _Don’t_ do that to me again.” Reigns choked out, shoving Dean back to his seat and quickly wiping his eyes.

  
  


“Hey, we stuck to the plan. Everything’s okay. Well, mostly.” Dean’s laugh was more of a cough. “I always forget how many is too many.” _Something_ struck the passenger side window with a loud ‘ _pang!_ ’. “Roman, uh, let’s get the fuck outta’ here. Open up the Bandwagon. Wanna’ see how it does with an expert at the wheel.” Dean coughed again, and you then realized he had a death grip on his side. “Also, might have gotten grazed. Nothin’ to worry about right now, but maybe later one of you g-”

  
  


“ Grazed? As in,  _ shot?! _ ”  Was that what those popping sounds were?! It was a far cry from what the movies made them out to be! “Dean, Jesus Christ!” You blurted.

  
  


“ Here’s a tip that’ll do you good in life, gorgeous. Don’t-- _ ah _ , ow--don’t bring a knife to a gun fight. Unless you like a challenge.” Dean groaned as he lolled his head back against the headrest. Seth reached over him hurriedly and clicked his seatbelt into the buckle. Dean huffed out a breath. “Such a mother hen.”

  
  


The vehicle’s headlights snapped on, brilliant angel eye LEDs illuminating the road and throwing everything into contrast. Dean hummed, seeming pleased. “Everyone buckled?” Roman asked calmly. There was another sharp ‘ _ pang! _ ’ , on the window by Seth this time. You flinched at the noise, clinging tighter to Seth's hand.

  
  


“You bet your ass. Drag that shit, give it all you’ve got.”

  
  


When Roman shifted the SUV and gave it some gas, you felt like your heart was trying to leap out of your throat. Seth laughed incredulously from his spot beside you as the vehicle tore off like a bat out of hell. “ _Hell_ yeah, go Grandwagon!”

  
  


“Jesus _Christ_ Ambrose, what did you _feed_ this thing?!” Roman sputtered, white-knuckling the steering wheel.

  
  


“Nothin’ I didn’t think you could handle.” Dean grinned. “You’re scratchin’ the surface, big fella’. When we get to the highway, open it up.”

  
  


You grabbed Seth’s arm and clung tight in anticipation. Rollins didn’t seem to be able to stop his giddy laughter, resting his cheek on your head and reaching over Dean’s seat to pat his shoulder appreciatively. “You’re the best Dean!”

  
  


Roman expertly guided the eager Trackhawk along the narrow, winding roads leading away from your house, smoothly shifting gears to put distance between the vehicle and the residence.

  
  


“So is anyone going to tell me what's going on?” You asked after several minutes of relative silence had gone by.

  
  


Dean craned his neck so he could make eye contact with you in the backseat. “Gorgeous, you remember the guy tailing you and your mom when you went to get that princess dress?”

  
  


You would be hard-pressed to forget being that scared. You nodded and Ambrose squinted, shifting a little.

  
  


“We, that is, Roman an’ I, went after the guy. Sent Rollins t’ cover you. That scumbag should have known better than to try and sneak out the back. That whole store was basically _designed_ like a kill zone for fuck’s sake, ain’t hard to figure out that it’s a shady joint.” He made a noise of disgust. “Follow the money an’ sure as shit you'll find it's soaked in blood.”

  
  


“ We briefly interrogated the man and of course, he spilled the whole plan pretty quickly. We didn’t take too kindly to being kept in the dark. One of us could have gotten hurt in the attempt, after all,” Roman carried on where Dean left off, “Your dad dismissing us for the whole gala was something we didn't see coming. We now knew there were people out to get you, but that stunt in the bridal shop seemed a little  _ desperate _ . Meant they were willing to take you in public. So, Rollins infiltrated the party to escort you elsewhere.”

  
  


_Willing to take you in public._ Your whole body broke out in a cold sweat.

  
  


“Your parents hadn’t had any contact with us since the gala. But earlier this month someone claiming to be your dad sent us an email with fucking _paragraphs_ of praise and a request that the three of us enjoy some time off since they’d be picking you up for the ‘annual Christmas vacation’.” Seth rolled his eyes. “Whoever is out for you hasn't exactly done their research. Might be the reason why we made it as far as we did, these people just assuming that we were doing our jobs as your security. At this point, though, I think they’re on to us.”

  
  


“I don't understa-”

  
  


Headlights blazed to life behind the SUV. A flurry of ‘ _ pang! _ ’ s met your ears and Roman shouted, “ _ Rollins! _ ”

  
  


Which led to the current mess, Seth unbuckled, a _sniper rifle_ in his hands and the rear window of the Jeep cracked open so he could take a few pot shots at your pursuers. One of the cars drew up alongside and you covered your ears as shots rattled against the glass beside your head.

  
  


Seth dropped his gun and grabbed hold of one of your legs, attempting to pull you underneath his body across the bench seat. Your seat belt held, unfortunately, and the back of your head slammed against the hard paneling on the door when your torso slid under the lap belt.

  
  


Everything went black.

  
  


“ _ \--on the highway, Reigns! _ ”

  
  


“ - _ happened to the _ -”

  
  


“ - _ gorgeous, please,  _ _** please! ** _ ”

  
  


“ \-- _ bump, they’ll be okay _ -”

  
  


Loud, panicked voices faded in and out; you were vaguely aware of the car moving beneath you and something pressing down on you. Your head hurt, and you gladly surrendered to the pull of unconsciousness. If this was what an action scene was  _ really  _ like, you’d had more than enough excitement...

  
  


…

  
  


When you woke up, you kept your eyes closed. Brow furrowed, you tried to discern why you felt like something was wrong.

  
  


It struck you after a moment that the noise of the highway close to your house was strangely absent. Your eyes flew open and you sat bolt upright, cringing in pain and running your fingers over the back of your head until you found the lumpy source of your discomfort. That mystery solved, you slowly took in the room around you in confusion.

  
  


The walls and ceiling were bare, unfinished wood, a stark contrast to your bedroom at home. The bed itself was piled high with a mishmash of quilts, and beneath that directly against your body was a pelt of some kind. Or maybe a group of smaller pelts, all sewn together? It was a cream color, soft and warm. A hysterical laugh bubbled in your throat as Gaston’s antler-heavy decor in _Beauty And The Beast_ came to mind. The room definitely had that _rustic_ feel to it.

  
  


The door of the room was slightly ajar, and you could hear quiet voices in the next room over. Nervously, you slid out from beneath the blankets, wrapping one of the quilts around your shoulders as an afterthought when the chill of the room hit you. You tiptoed to the door, overly cautious. After all, you couldn’t exactly remember how you had gotten here! It couldn’t hurt to be careful.

  
  


The door eased open a little more at your touch. Firelight played over the wall that you could see, bathing the wood in dancing shadows. You tried to open the door the rest of the way, but the hinges creaked loudly. You froze.

  
  


There was a rustling and the thud of rapidly approaching footfalls, then the door handle was wrenched out of your hand. You screamed, pressing your back to the wall next to the door as your fists raised instinctively. You were currently cornered by a stranger with a well-kept beard and strangely bleached streak in his hair. Said stranger shifted his weight nervously at your exclamation, his brow furrowed.

  
  


There were two other men in the room, you realized quickly. Your eyes were drawn without your conscious involvement to the coagulated puddle of blood at the light-haired man's side and you felt sick to your stomach as the large man with the tattoo covering his entire arm got to his feet. All three of them were _so_ much bigger than you. Bruce Lee's _Art Of Fighting_ might have made for excellent reading, but you were relatively certain that the absence of years of skilled training on your end rendered the knowledge down to historic clumps of text and black and white images.

  
  


“Gorgeous?” The light-haired man asked slowly, like he was addressing you. His face was overgrown with stubble and deep shadows marred the area beneath his piercing blue eyes. He looked exhausted and wary.

  
  


“I remember you.” You said shakily, jabbing a brave finger in the direction of the blond-streaked individual. An expression of guilt flitted across his face, strengthening your meager resolve. “You were hanging from the rafters and...and then you _rushed_ me from the counter! And then I backed into _you_ and...oh God, am I kidnapped? You knocked me out and _kidnapped_ me! Where are my clothes?!” Your voice rose to a fever pitch, “I'll give you anything you want, I swear! M-My parents...they'll pay whatever amount you set, just please don't hurt me anymore!” You begged, cowering away from the man as best as you could.

  
  


“'Anymore'?” The man with the streak in his hair repeated, sounding confused.

  
  


“ The back of my head is  _ throbbing _ , I've got a lump and everything!”

  
  


“Let me see.” He demanded, reaching out again.

  
  


“Stay away from me! Don't touch me!” You cried, thankful beyond words when he immediately halted. “I just want to go home, p-please!”

  
  


The light-haired man exhaled hard, those eyes trained on the back of the man in front of you. “Give 'em some space, Seth.” He said finally. The tattooed man rolled his shoulders menacingly, but remained silent.

  
  


Seth ( _if that's really his name_ your brain piped up) however, began to protest. “Ambrose, I-”

  
  


“No. They're freakin’ out. Back off.” Ambrose (?) ordered. The man with the light streak ( _Seth?_ ) obeyed without further question. “Look, uh, I promise, as weird as this all seems, we didn't... _kidnap_ you.” Ambrose continued carefully, like he was maneuvering around telling you the whole truth. “Not really. More like...rescued?” He clearly noticed your look of disbelief, because he swore under his breath. You flinched at the curse, not used to such rough language. “You obviously remember your parents. D'you remember anything... _specific_ about them?”

  
  


“They're away on a trip. They always are.” You replied curtly (hopefully not _too_ curtly, these men were huge in their own right and you were deathly afraid of upsetting them). “What did you do to my security team?” A terrible thought struck you as you once again looked at the bloodied bandages on Ambrose's side. “Did you...you didn't...did you _kill_ them?” You breathed, horrified.

  
  


“No, _hell_ no! Listen to me, we did _not_ kidnap you!” He exclaimed. “We're not kidnappers or murderers or _whatever_ the fuck!” His irritated tone of voice did little to dissuade your concerns and you felt tears well up in your eyes. You tried to wipe them away, but more rushed in to take their place and began rolling down your cheeks. “There was a break-in, shit, over a year ago at this point, remember? Y'know, the _reason_ why you had a security team in the first place?”

  
  


“ S-Someone was...” A hazy image surfaced in your mind. The man with the streak in his hair ( _ Seth? _ ) slipping through your bedroom window, grinning like a fiend. “It was  _ you _ , you broke in!” You accused, your finger yet again pointed in Seth’s direction. “You came in through my window!”

  
  


“I did sometimes.” Seth allowed. “You thought it was funny because I would go out through one window on the other side of the house, sprint across the roof and then swing in through yours. You don't...you don't remember that part?” He asked hesitantly. “We're uh...we're your current security team. Have been for almost a year now.”

  
  


You were shaking your head before he was even done speaking. “My parents only hired professionals.”

  
  


“ Your  _ parents _ .” The large man with the tattoo spoke up, his words a furious hiss. You shrank back at the harshness of his voice, wondering what your parents had done to earn his ire.

  
  


“ _Easy_ Roman.” Ambrose murmured, one hand on the other man's arm. Thick black hair surrounded Roman's face like a tangled halo, extending past his shoulders to curl at his collarbone. His frown was framed by a goatee the same color as his hair. The tattoo was menacing enough, but the way his brown eyes narrowed had you thoroughly on edge. He scared you the most if you were being brutally honest, his stony demeanor and imposing form utterly terrifying.

  
  


“Please.” You begged pitifully, hating how the three of them continued to _study_ you. “I just want to go home.”

  
  


“You wouldn’t be sayin’ that if you knew what was waiting for y’ there.” Ambrose said sharply, getting a better grip on Roman’s arm and pulling himself upright. “We’re the only friends you’ve got in this whole fuckin’ world right now, gorgeous. We promised to-” He paused, grimacing.

  
  


“You need to lay back down.” Roman muttered.

  
  


“-Promised to keep you safe, no matter what.” Ambrose continued, his fingers digging into Roman’s shoulder hard enough to make the tan skin pale. “There was a breach. A security breach. Someone had been feelin’ out our perimeter and they finally acted on it last night. Rollins saw them first, he tipped us off.”

  
  


“Dean bought us the time we needed to get you to the Trackhawk.” Seth’s voice was low, grave. “We were pursued. You hit your head when I grabbed you. It was...it was my fault.”

  
  


“I want to talk to my parents.”

  
  


“ _Listen_ , if we break radio silence now there's a relatively good chance whoever is trying to get you will _absolutely_ find you.” Seth stressed the words tersely. “We were supposed to have the holidays off. Like the gala. Do you remember the gala?”

  
  


\-- _ Someone dragged you into the shadows of an alcove, you swung with all your might _ \--

  
  


“ _You_ grabbed me and I hit you!” You retorted.

  
  


“I apologized for scaring you! _And_ we went bowling afterwards!” Seth squawked. “I’m not some perv, you were crying and-”

  
  


“Because _that_ makes it better, right? Grabbing someone when they’re already freaking out?” _Where_ was this courage coming from?

  
  


“-and I just _wanted_ to make you feel _safe!_ ” Seth finished loudly, clearly frustrated. You glared at him for raising his voice, folding your arms across your chest. For whatever reason, you at least felt like you had a fighting chance when it came to him. Ambrose was obviously the voice of sanity, and Roman was _scary_. But Seth was different.

  
  


“ _ Christ. Go easy on a guy, will you? _ ”

  
  


You recalled the moment as clear as day, the way he had nonchalantly rubbed at his throat where you had landed your strike. Your blow was nothing but a nuisance to him. How long had you been stuck with these three? What else had happened? “I want to talk to my parents.” You demanded again.

  
  


Ambrose sat down heavily on the ottoman by the fire, dropping his head into his hands. “Dean?” Seth asked, a note of fear shining through his tone. Ambrose waved off his concern with a low grunt. Seth ignored him, moving to his side and crouching so he could see the other man’s face. “Dean…”

  
  


“Room’s spinnin’. Mighta’ lost more blood than I thought.” Dean admitted through his fingers.

  
  


“ I knew it. Ambrose you need a  _ hospital _ .” Roman’s words were dismissed with the violent shake of a tawny head.

  
  


“I’ve made it through worse shit than this.” Dean growled.

  
  


“ That’s not the  _ point _ , idiot, we weren’t supposed to have to go through the worse shit anymore!” Seth snapped. “This gig was supposed to do it.”

  
  


“Oh, because this is the first time a plan has collapsed on top of us, right?” Roman shot back bitterly. “We knew this job was messed up from the start.”

  
  


“I ain’t saying that and you know it! Shit Ro, I never wanted Ambrose to get hurt.” Seth’s voice softened oddly. “Didn’t want anyone to get hurt. I hoped we would figure out a way around this.”

  
  


“Fact of the matter is that you can’t talk to your parents.” Dean addressed you around their conversation. “If these people are find out where _we_ are, there’s a damn good chance you’ll wind up bagged. I’m not tryin’ to scare you. I’m just bein’ honest. All you are right now is a paycheck. They been tryin’ t’ get ahold of you for ages. It was all part of the plan”

  
  


Your legs gave out and you slid down the wall, hitting the floor with a quiet  _ thud _ . “I…please.” You said stupidly. Your head was pounding, the room wavering uncertainly before your eyes.

  
  


“Rollins, get them back into bed. They gotta’ rest.”

  
  


“ _You do_ _ **not**_ _touch them!_ _Only_ _ **we**_ _can touch them!_ ”

  
  


“ _ Gorgeous, you with us? Sorry we’re late _ .”

  
  


“ _ Just us. Only us. Only us _ .”

  
  


Fragments of conversations you didn’t remember having looped in your brain, tangling and twisting into a ball and drowning out the voices in the room.

  
  


“ _ Easy, easy, it’s okay. We’re getting you out of here _ .”

  
  


“ _ Trust me, no matter how you  _ _** feel ** _ _ , you look even dumber _ .”

  
  


“ _ It’s us, man. They got him _ .”

  
  


With more care than you would have expected from a kidnapper, Seth eased you upright and tucked the quilt back around your shoulders. Your body all but fell into his own and he steadied you with a hand on the small of your back. “Don’t touch me.” You whispered, no real bite behind your words.

  
  


Seth’s hand rose to your arm instead, his grip tightening. “Just to get you back into bed.” He bargained. “Please.”

  
  


You wanted to cry. “ _ No _ . I can get there myself.”

  
  


The wounded expression on his face was only there for a split second, then it smoothed back into a neutral mask. “Alright.” He slowly, _agonizingly_ slowly, let you go, brown eyes chilled with something unreadable while he watched you like a hawk.

  
  


You fumbled back into the bedroom, not daring to hold his gaze for any length of time. What the hell was wrong with you? Did you actually _believe_ them? You had been kidnapped! Given a rap over the head and all but Shanghaied! Was _this_ that Stockholm syndrome you had read so much about? Because if it was, it was more dangerous than you could have imagined.

  
  


You laid down on the bed, clutching the quilts with shaky hands. The way that Seth had looked at you stirred something in the pit of your stomach. You were certain that if you had maintained eye contact, you would have…well, it didn’t bear thinking about. You shivered, gripping the blankets even tighter.

  
  


His eyes had shone in the light from the fire, wary and guilty, but the _longing_ in them had taken your breath away. Clearly, _whoever_ this man was, this burglar-turned-kidnapper, his emotions ran deep. His touch, for whatever reason, sent shockwaves through your body. Was it just because he was attractive? You immediately scolded yourself for your lapse in judgement, of _course_ it was because he was attractive! Nobody ever gave you the time of day, so naturally you would read too much into someone just _looking_ at you. You huffed out a frustrated breath.

  
  


_ Their names are Dean, Seth, and Roman _ ...

  
  


…

  
  


At some point you must have drifted off because the next thing you knew, cold white light was streaming into the room in earnest. You groaned, caught between disappointment and relief that this _wasn’t_ some wild dream.

  
  


“Awake again. How’s your head, gorgeous?”

  
  


You were pretty sure the scary guy was going to take years off of your life. _Roman_ , you reminded yourself while you tried to manage your heart rate. “Do you _have_ to watch me while I sleep?” You finally squeaked out.

  
  


Roman shrugged from his spot in the rough-hewn chair beside the bed. He looked exhausted. “Until a couple seconds ago, I was asleep too. You moved. I’m a light sleeper.”

  
  


“Oh! You were probably up with uh…Am...Ambrose, right?” You deduced, rolling onto your stomach so you could really study Roman. He didn’t look nearly so scary in the daylight, but he was still a clear and obvious threat. It couldn’t hurt to butter him up a little.

  
  


Roman nodded, scrubbing at his face in an effort to rouse himself. “Yeah. I think he’s stable now. Hard to tell with him. You remember that, huh? Anything else?” He asked, sounding weirdly hopeful.

  
  


You scrunched up your nose, actually trying to think back. “No.” You admitted. “All I’ve got is bits and pieces.”

  
  


Roman put his head in his hands and was silent for a few minutes. “It’s okay.” He whispered, and you weren’t sure if he was talking to you or himself. “It’ll be okay. You’re gonna’ remember at some point and we’ll be there.”

  
  


Your brow furrowed. These guys were either _fantastic_ actors or you had actually meant something to them. _You’re their meal ticket,_ _ **stupid!**_ _Stop making it easy for them to get into your head!_

  
  


“Ro?” There was a timid knock on the door. “Hey I made breakfast, are they…” Rollins trailed off upon seeing you awake. “Oh! Morning. How do you feel?” He asked cheerily. Obviously he had slept better than Reigns. _Reigns?_ _Roman_.

  
  


“I wish you guys would knock it off with this buddy-buddy act. It’s creepy.” You muttered, sitting up and folding your arms firmly when Rollins sat on the edge of the bed.

  
  


“We can’t help it, gorgeous. This is how we’re used to being around you.” Seth reached for you, then hurriedly pulled back like he remembered what he was doing. “I’m…I’m sorry.” He apologized jerkily.

  
  


Against your better judgement, you felt yourself soften a little. “You said something about breakfast?” You prompted him.

  
  


“Oh! Yeah, I made breakfast. Uh, Ro, food? Yeah?”

  
  


“Has Dean eaten?” Roman queried, standing up from his chair and stretching with a long, drawn-out groan.

  
  


“Made sure he ate first. I think he’s gonna’ make it.” Seth grinned. “If the amount of food he put away was any indicator, I’d say he’ll be up and about before you know it. He went right back to sleep once he was done.”

  
  


“Thank God.” Roman breathed, his shoulders slumping. “Food sounds great. You wanna’ watch them while I eat, or you wanna’ just bring everything-” Seth sprang off the bed and pushed the door open the rest of the way, picking up two plates. “-in here.” Roman finished, accepting a plate from the eager young man. “Breakfast is served, gorgeous.”

  
  


“ _ Fuck  _ you guys, leaving me all alone in the living room like I’m some kinda’  _ nuisance! _ ”  Seth winced at the volume of Dean’s voice, hurriedly passing you the other plate and then scurrying back into the living room.

  
  


“You want half of mine? I can’t eat this much.” You offered Roman quickly.

  
  


Roman glanced up, then sidelong at your overloaded plate. “If you’re sure you don’t want it, yeah. Can’t waste food.”

  
  


You scraped a hearty assortment of the eggs and bacon off your dish and onto his own, ignoring his murmured thanks. This was a _strategic_ choice, to make sure your food hadn’t been poisoned or otherwise altered in a detrimental manner. You watched Roman narrowly while he tucked into the larger portion, observing his lack of hesitance or wariness as he ate.

  
  


Once he was nearly done, you took a tiny bite of your toast. You hadn’t realized how hungry you were beforehand and keeping track of Roman faded to the background of your mind as you devoured your breakfast.

  
  


“He’s a great cook for being such a crossfit weirdo.” Roman gestured towards the door with his fork, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

  
  


“I heard that!” Seth protested, returning to the bedroom with a bleary-eyed Dean hanging off of his shoulder. The light-haired man _did_ look mildly improved; he had gotten some color back in his face.

  
  


“Heya’ gorgeous, miss me?” He asked cheekily, making a loud smooching noise with his mouth. Against your better judgement, you let a tiny giggle escape. “See Rollins? They’re still in there. Nobody can resist my charm for long, even if they don’t remember nothin’ else.” Dean grinned, giving Seth a weak punch in the shoulder.

  
  


“I _will_ drop you, Ambrose.”

  
  


You quickly determined that you weren’t going to be left alone. For someone like you, this was a horrifying revelation. You valued your peace and quiet and these three were anything  _ but _ . Thank God you found a few of your favorite books deep in the backpack Seth had said was yours.

  
  


The snowstorm appeared to have slowed to a light but steady flurry. Roman and Seth took turns shoveling out the vehicle you had glimpsed from the window, Seth waving off your offer of help. “I don’t want to risk losing y--er, losing anything in this rough weather.” He explained as he hung his jacket up by the fire to dry.

  
  


“That’s not fair to you guys though!” You protested, hiding your disappointment at the fact that he could see through your ploy so easily. So many half-hearted plans were fighting for space in your brain, you hadn’t really given much thought to what you might do if you _did_ get outside. It was _cold_ , and you hadn’t exactly brought your glacier-scaling gear. Plus, you had no idea where you were!

  
  


“If you’re hell-bent on killin’ yourself that’s fine. Go on ahead. But you’re not takin’ either of my boys with you.” Dean growled. “Gorgeous, I know you’re scared. I wouldn’t be so hot if I was in your shoes with my memories missin’. Please. Don’t do anythin’ stupid when you’re like this. I’m beggin’ you, please.” His tone had then dropped to a plaintive rasp, vastly different from his humorous jibes earlier. “You, Reigns an’ Rollins are all I’ve got in this world. I’ve…I’ve lost so much. Please, gorgeous.”

  
  


Seth hushed him, digging his fingers into his hair almost like he was petting him. Roman urged their partner to lay back down, saying, “You need  _ rest _ , Ambrose. We don’t want to lose you either, you know.” His expression had softened to the point where he was no longer scary to you, his concern for Dean blatantly obvious through the tough façade he clearly tried hard to maintain.

  
  


Dean spoke with you at length while the other two were outside, the light-haired man attempting to lessen your worries in a way that seemed to give you as little information as possible. You hated to admit that, despite his roundabout way of talking, some of the things he mentioned resonated, shoving forward half-recollections from the dark patch that clouded your mind.

  
  


You shook your head, ducking underneath the covers and chewing on your thumb as you mulled over the day’s events. You were so conflicted. It wouldn’t have been as bad if your brain didn’t keep offering up weird little bits and pieces of past experiences that you couldn’t fully recall. For all you knew, they _were_ telling the truth. But for all you knew, they weren’t. You flopped back on the pillows, pressing your fists to your forehead and fighting the urge to scream in frustration. Your mind kept looping one scene, startlingly vivid and searing a line of heat through your belly.

  
  


\-- _Roman slamming his shoulder into the side of a man who had his hands tight on your upper arms, momentum sending the two of them to the ground._ “ _You do_ _ **not**_ _touch them!_ ” _He had announced firmly._ “ _Only we can touch them!_ ”

  
  


His face when he had said that, the _look_ in his eyes...what if they were lying? _What if they weren’t?_

  
  


Something bumped against the door. Not hard enough to be a knock, but not light enough to be your imagination or just some creak of the cabin.

  
  


Curious now, you slipped out of the bed, shivering at the temperature of the floor. Once you left the safety of the covers, the cold latched onto your body. As fast as you dared, you snuck to the door and turned the handle. Roman was apparently sleeping against your door, his body slumped forward with that deadly-looking hand cannon resting on his right thigh. 

  
  


You looked at the gun, up at his face and then back to the gun. He stirred and you knew you had to act quickly so he wouldn’t wake the others. Your plan was hardly half-formed when you put it in motion, closing the door again and straddling Roman’s lap. Despite his talk earlier of being a light sleeper, he showed no signs of waking. You cursed inwardly. Maybe you shouldn’t have put yourself in this position before-

  
  


He groaned and you sucked in a breath as his eyes drowsily opened. His brow furrowed, those brown eyes slightly crossed when he tried to focus on your face so close to his own. “Gorgeous?” He muttered, obviously caught off-guard.

  
  


_ Good _ .

  
  


“It’s me, Roman.” You whispered back. “Hi.” You took another gamble and cupped his face, rubbing your thumbs through the dark stubble that coated his jaw.

  
  


“Y…really?”

  
  


“Yes, I remember. I’ve missed you so much.” You said, trying to sound heartfelt.

  
  


The speed that he embraced you at startled you, as did the shuddering exhale into your neck. “ _ Christ _ , gorgeous, I thought Seth was gonna’ go to pieces. When he grabbed you without unbuckling you and you hit your head…we thought you got  _ shot _ . It was pandemonium.”

  
  


You almost felt guilty for playing him like this, but you were fairly certain you wouldn’t get straight answers any other way. “It’s alright. I don’t blame him.” Your hand closed on the grip of his abandoned gun, the weapon lighter than you expected.  _ How to take down an opponent larger than you _ :  _ You’re already going to be at a disadvantage _ .

  
  


“We should wake them up, they ought to-” You cut him off in a hurry by kissing him clumsily, making him grunt into your mouth before his fingers wove into your hair. His kisses were hungry, foreign and familiar all at once. Your body lit up, losing yourself in the sensation of closeness with another human being. This was so strange, barely-restrained emotions you couldn’t name surging wildly in your chest. You felt almost like you needed to cry.

  
  


Roman turned you around in his lap, touching his mouth to the junction of your neck and shoulder. He moved you easily, like he had done it a thousand times before. Maybe he had. Your mind tentatively fluttered a few images in the background when you felt his cock twitch _through_ his pants.

  
  


“ _ You’re all set for the night, gorgeous. You rest now _ .”

  
  


The muzzle of the gun pressed to the underside of Roman’s jaw and he went still, obviously comprehending the gravity of the situation. “I want answers.” You breathed, jabbing the unfamiliar weapon up a little harder. In the dim light from the fireplace, you could see the forms of Seth and Dean on the floor sound asleep. You would need to be stealthy about this.

  
  


“I don't think the gun is necessary.” Roman murmured back.

  
  


“Don’t _screw_ with me.”

  
  


“I’m being serious.”

  
  


“ So am I. Serious as cancer.” You gritted out. “Hot lead  _ brain cancer. _ ”  You had heard the line in a movie once and you hoped against hope that Roman hadn’t seen the same film. The last thing you needed was him calling your bluff. It was all you could do to keep the gun steady where it dug into his jaw. Roman could easily overpower you.  _ Easily _ . The easiest out of all of them.

  
  


But even he had his Kryptonite. “Damn, you’re intimidating like this.” You could hear the smile in his voice and your body was suddenly flush with heat once more. “What do you want to know?”

  
  


“I want straight, succinct answers, not the vague _bull_ that Ambrose was feeding me. Where am I?”

  
  


“Different question.”

  
  


“You can’t _do_ that!” You protested.

  
  


“I can’t, but I will. What are you gonna’ do? Shoot me or ask me a question that will give you an actual answer?” Roman challenged. You swore you could feel the rasp of his stubble travel down the gun’s barrel to the grip.

  
  


“ _ Fine _ .” You spat, biting your lip. “What...what are you guys planning on doing to me?”

  
  


His hands stayed on your thighs, fingers digging into your skin while he mulled your question over. For _whatever_ reason his erection didn’t seem to have wilted, continuing to press insistently against the small of your back even with a gun in his face. “I would apologize for my state, but I’m pretty sure you don’t care.” He whispered.

  
  


Oh, you cared. You cared  _ immensely _ . “Naturally. Just answer the damn question.” You hissed. His hands pried your thighs open and shoved your left leg over his own. The right soon followed, spreading you wide in his lap with your back to his chest. You gasped and he covered your mouth, a grunt leaving him when you jabbed the gun upwards against the bottom of his jaw a little harder than before in warning.

  
  


“Easy now gorgeous, you’ll bruise me. Just making sure you don’t wake Ambrose or Rollins. They’re… _jumpy_.” Roman explained in an undertone. “You _do_ have a gun in my face. I’d hate to get my brains blown out because they’re a little excitable.”

  
  


“Smart man.” You didn’t trust him as far as you could throw him. “Now, _what_ are you guys planning on doing to me?”

  
  


“ _To_ you? Nothing. At least, nothing unless you consent to it.” You rolled your eyes. “ _With_ you though...we’re trying to figure that out. The people after you obviously have a pretty broad reach. You probably should have pulled this little stunt on Rollins. He’s the brains of the outfit.” Roman admitted. “All I know is that we were assigned to you with the warning of this eventually happening. Our organization figured it was our best bet, and your parents seemed to agree. Hell, why do you think we were hired in the first place? We aren’t _security_ , gorgeous. You've probably already put that together.”

  
  


“You were…you were hired to kill me?” You asked weakly.

  
  


“What? _No_. Well...I mean, that might have been what people expected since our specialty is more to… _neglect_ to protect our clients. We make it look accidental if someone winds up dead.” Roman shrugged as best as he could, like he hadn't dropped utterly chilling information onto you. “We were assigned to the rich kid bait under the assumption that your stalkers would know _exactly_ who we are, as well as what we specialize in. It was supposed to press them into action. We just...” Roman hesitated, “We didn't expect you to be kind to us, we expected a spoiled brat. It changed our whole game plan, basically, and that spot with the guy in the bridal store was a little too close for comfort.”

  
  


- _ Seth jumping over the wall, his body shielding yours while the dressing room doorknob jiggled _ \--

  
  


“ You’re not like our usual assignments. We’ve told you that.” Roman swallowed hard. “We knew we needed to really be on top of things, or risk losing you. So we did what we do best. We trained. We stockpiled. We  _ prepared _ .” He shifted beneath you. “Even trained you, as I’m sure you’ve put together by now. Taught you a few moves in case something happened and we were separated from you.”

  
  


“ Bet you regret  _ that _ .” You said triumphantly, prodding him with the gun.

  
  


Roman splayed his palm on your stomach, absently rubbing small circles. “I don’t regret a damn thing, gorgeous. I know you can’t remember much of it, but we've got no reason to lie to you. The months that we’ve had with you were the best that they could have been. We’re not giving that up without a fight.” He replied.

  
  


The raw honesty in his voice gave you pause. What if they _weren’t_ lying? _A little late for second thoughts, you’ve got a gun at his throat!_ You scolded yourself.

  
  


“ Granted, being seduced and pumped for information at gunpoint is uh, a new one on me. But there’s a first time for everything.” He was smiling again, that  _ jackass _ . You growled in irritation. “Wait, am I not being seduced?”

  
  


“You’re such a _jerk_.” You hated that you were blushing this hard. “Don’t get comfortable, big guy. Let’s not forget that you’re the one _without_ the gun.”

  
  


“I haven’t gotten comfortable in the _slightest_. Mainly because I can tell how wet you are. You’re hot and dripping _through_ my clothes, gorgeous. It’s hard to be comfortable when I should be inside you. Something you need to tell me about your power play fantasies?” He whispered in your ear, “If I didn't know any better, I'd think you _like_ having me at your mercy.”

  
  


“Don’t _say_ things like that!” You reprimanded him, feeling your legs trying to close on reflex while your body sought relief. His hands tightened on your thighs though, keeping you spread open on his lap.

  
  


“You could, if you wanted to. You can pretty much call the shots here, gorgeous. I know exactly how much power that gun’s got, and I’d rather not have it splitting my head open at this _exceptional_ point blank range.” Roman’s voice was nothing but a deep purr, vibrating against your ear. “Wouldn't mind if you decided to maybe get a little greedy for me. A little _demanding_ , even.”

  
  


What had you been planning on doing? Your head was filling slowly with half-memories, tastes and sensations flooding you in an overwhelming surge. You whimpered without meaning to and Roman seized the opportunity to kiss you again.

  
  


You somehow knew what to do in response to every curl of his tongue against your own. You remembered forms, caresses, shadowy longing. An aching familiarity mixed with the uncertainty of your piecemeal recollections, fanning the flames of confusion and arousal in your stomach.

  
  


“Because of who we are…what we do, we promised each other that _we_ would take priority over every mission.” Roman gasped out when the two of you parted once more. “And then…and then _you_ came along. The bait for the trap. With all your books and your family that _wasn't_ and we just…we lost, gorgeous. We lost _hard_.” You went to move and Roman grabbed your wrist, keeping the gun firm. “Oh no you don’t. If you’re shooting someone, it’s _going_ to be me.” His eyes were downright ferocious in the dim light from the fire and it slowly dawned on you that he was absolutely serious.

  
  


“You would die for them, huh?” You tried to sound nonchalant, pushing the gun up again to punctuate your question.

  
  


“For them and you.” Roman replied sternly. “Without hesitation.” He pressed his mouth to your own once more, fervent murmurs escaping his lips to hang half-spoken in the heated air between you.

  
  


“I don’t understand.” You managed to murmur through his ravenous kisses. “Why would you…”

  
  


“I know.” Roman tapped the elastic band on your borrowed pair of sleeping shorts. “It doesn’t matter. You call the shots.”

  
  


“Your cock out, now.” You demanded before you could really think about how crazy this was. “If you can still get it up with a gun to your head.”

  
  


“Lord have mercy, you’re a fucking _terror_.” Roman choked out after a few moments of silence. He reached down to unzip his pants, shoving the fly open and straining to free his cock through the hole in his boxers. You were starting to suspect that Roman might possibly have a few… _quirks_ of his own when it came to this situation. His _body_ obviously didn’t mind being held at gunpoint.

  
  


“You’re supposed to be scared.” You snapped.

  
  


“Did I _not_ just call you a terror?” Roman asked. “I work decent under pressure. Try not to make me panic here. Won’t end well for me.” He knocked his chin against the barrel of his hand cannon. “You just keep that gun right where you've got it, and I'll do whatever you want.”

  
  


You reached down silently, your fingers closing around his own on his shaft. Roman's breath hitched. “I think you wanted this, Roman.” You whispered. “Is it hard being like you all the time? So strong and brave and  _ in charge? _ ”  You gave him a lazy stroke and his head fell back against the door, baring his entire throat to you. You watched his adam's apple bob with his next convulsive swallow.

  
  


“Please.” His voice was hardly there. “God damn it, _please_ gorgeous.”

  
  


You nuzzled your nose into his neck beside the barrel of the gun and Roman shuddered all over, one hand moving downwards to cup your groin through the thin material of your sleeping shorts. “You're not putting your cock inside me.” You murmured. “I'm not that dumb.”

  
  


He wrapped his other hand back around his cock and started stroking himself. “That's fine. I don't need to put my cock inside you.” He grunted. “You're wet through these shorts, gorgeous. This pussy _wants_ me. But hey, deprivation is self-discipline, right? It's not like I can't get myself off like this.” He gently pressed the heel of his palm down on your pubic mound, igniting sparks in your core. “ _That_ 's right.” He murmured in response to your harsh inhale. “Grind against my hand, circle those hips and use me to get off. Do it gorgeous, _do it_.”

  
  


Your grip on the gun faltered but Roman didn't even seem to notice, kissing you again and rutting his hips upwards to meet his fist. His index finger sought out your clit through the thin fabric of your shorts, stroking over the sensitive nub and grinning when you gasped into his mouth.

  
  


“I've got you now, gorgeous. You want someone to dominate? Someone to boss around? I'm pretty sure I can fufill that particular need even better than the guys in your books. You just keep wriggling like that and-” Roman's words choked off as you jabbed him with the gun again, cutting off his breath and forcing his chin up.

  
  


“So full of yourself.” You muttered, taking his shaft in your hand and _feeling_ more than hearing him groan. “You're not going to do anything except be obedient.” You rubbed the head of his cock roughly, running your thumb over the slit with firm, repetitive strokes.

  
  


“ I'm gonna' come.” He choked out suddenly. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, I'm  _ coming-- _ ”  Roman shuddered beneath you, his hips jerking as his cock spurted onto your thighs and stomach. “ _ Hah _ , fuck.” He gasped, his chest heaving against your back. “That's fucking embarrassing. Oh well.”

  
  


His arms suddenly wrapped around you from behind, pinning your arms to your sides. The gun hung uselessly down by his thigh as Roman took a few deep, steadying breaths. You squirmed, marveling inwardly at the lack of terror that you felt even while being restrained.

  
  


“ You alright, Reigns?” Oh  _ no _ , Ambrose was  _ awake _ . You watched in horror as Rollins sat up next to Dean, rubbing his eyes and yawning widely.

  
  


Roman ignored the other men for a moment. “A gun only works under two conditions, gorgeous. One: you have to be mentally prepared to pull the trigger. And two:  _ it needs to be loaded _ .” Roman hissed in your ear.

  
  


Your eyes widened.

  
  


Roman paused. “Oh, and the safety needs to be off. Three conditions.” His grin was _insufferably_ smug.

  
  


“You…oh wow.” Seth seemed to be at a loss for words. You didn’t miss the way his eyes rested on Roman’s cock, still twitching against your stomach over your night shirt.

  
  


“This could be the kinkiest shit I see in person in my lifetime.” Dean announced, making Roman laugh. “You _fucked_ him, with a gun to his head? Ku-fuckin’-dos, gorgeous. Kinda’ surprised he didn’t pump you full in retaliation, honestly.”

  
  


“You _knew_ it wasn’t loaded!” You exclaimed, knowing that you had no real right to be upset. This strategy had been half-baked at best. Roman tapped your wrist and you released his gun without a fight. You felt yourself go bright red in the face with embarrassed frustration while Roman flipped open the revolver with a practiced flick of his wrist and spun the dry chambers, illustrating that there hadn’t been any danger whatsoever. “Why even go along with it then? You just wanted me to make a fool of myself or something?”

  
  


Roman shook his head. “I liked it, why wouldn't I go along with it?” He grinned, “Granted, you startled me at first. I didn't think you had it in you, gorgeous.”

  
  


A hand cupped your chin, gently pulling it upwards. Seth offered you a smile. “Hey, it was a good try. Would have worked in a scenario where you were actually in danger, no doubt. You used the resources you had access to.” He praised.

  
  


“Fat lot of good it did me!”

  
  


“It would have kept you alive. That’s all that matters.” Seth said firmly. “Now, how about you come with me and I’ll get you cleaned up, okay?”

  
  


Roman gave you a teasing nip on the neck before you got up and you squealed, smacking his chest. Dean chuckled, “Show him who’s boss, gorgeous,” loudly smooching your cheek on the way by.

  
  


Seth led you to the bathroom, sitting you up on the sink like you were a small child and then rummaging in the closet for a washcloth. “Are you alright?” He asked softly while he ran the tap.

  
  


You nodded, pursing your lips. “Not like I won’t get over being embarrassed.” You raked a hand through your hair, feeling the twitch of an aftershock send a delicious shudder down your spine. You hadn't come from Roman's haphazard ministrations and you couldn't help but wonder whether he would have fucked you if you had let him.

  
  


“I’m glad. Glad you didn’t hurt Roman, either.” Seth was dangerous. Seth _meant_ what he said. “We’re all we’ve got in the world, so we try to take care of one another.”

  
  


“Roman mentioned.” You grumbled.

  
  


“Did he tell you why?” You shook your head and Seth sighed, dragging a hand down his face. “There was an assignment that…the client got in my head. _Real_ deep.” He muttered, seeming ashamed. “I almost got Reigns and Ambrose killed. It was so close to happening. Ambrose…heh, he can take a lot, but that just about broke him.” Seth stared down at the now-wet washcloth in his hands.

  
  


“What happened?” You asked, your curiosity getting the best of you. “I mean, if you want to tell me you can. You don’t have to.” You hurriedly amended.

  
  


“We hadn’t really uh, spilled the beans to one another. About…about the fact that we all liked each other a little more than partners normally do. Look, specifics don’t matter. Long story short, Ambrose got fucked up pretty badly. Roman could at least still move but…shit, I thought he was going to kill me himself.” Seth’s little laugh was mirthless, a hollow noise. “There was blood _everywhere_ and I was bawling my eyes out. Roman had his cannon to my head saying that he wanted answers while he’s trying to hold pressure on his shoulder with his other hand and Ambrose just…it was like he came back from the dead out of sheer _spite_.”

  
  


“ - _ don’t bring a knife to a gun fight _ -”

  
  


“So he’s stubborn.” You shook off the memory of Dean’s voice, unsure of when that had even been from.

  
  


“That’s the understatement of the century. Dean cracked his head into mine and he screamed, ‘ _you’ll have to do better than that!_ ’, this _maniac_ grin on his face the whole time. He had his fingers wrapped around my throat, Roman’s hand cannon all primed up against my skull itching to pull that trigger. I’ve never apologized so hard in my _life_. I begged for forgiveness.”

  
  


Seth spread your legs and carefully smoothed the washcloth over your thighs, making you shiver. You wrapped your arms around his neck to steady yourself, needing an anchor. He hummed soothingly, letting you rock against the pressure of his hand.

  
  


“Once we had Ambrose safe and sound in a hospital, Roman took me aside and told me in no uncertain terms that I was on thin ice with him. He _absolutely_ would have killed me.” Recalling Roman’s deadly fierce expression from earlier, you could see it happening. “’ _Love is a garbage thing, Rollins. Makes my hands shake. Makes me hesitate, second-guess._ ’ He sounded so angry with himself.” Rollins shook his head, working the warm cloth in small circles. “He punched me right in the mouth and then he hugged me so tight I thought he was gonna’ break my spine.”

  
  


Your whine seemed to catch him by surprise. His story was doing _nothing_ to distract from the fact that he was absolutely teasing you on purpose, the warm washcloth equal parts calming and riling. You hiccupped in a breath and he groaned, a kiss landing right beneath your ear. “Seth.” You said softly.

  
  


“Yes, gorgeous?”

  
  


It had been so much simpler with Roman. You hadn't had time to _think_. Now you felt shaky, restless in a way that made your knees tremble. _Hungry_. “Seth, I...I'm scared.” You admitted. He immediately went to move back, his expression concerned. But you caught the back of his neck, rooting him in place. “Not of you. _Any_ of you. I'm scared because if...if what you guys told me is true, that means that we're all in trouble.”

  
  


“Not unless we lose you.” Seth breathed, touching his forehead to your own. “Trust me, that's when the real trouble would happen.”

  
  


“I want to believe you.”

  
  


“It's okay if you don't.” Seth replied kindly. He kissed you and you leaned into it, fingers grasping desperately at his shirt. “Easy gorgeous. I'm not going anywhere.” He murmured, sliding down your body and spreading your legs. “I'm here. Only us. Even if you don't remember, only us.”

 


	3. Chrismuts Special; Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is part two of two, for the 25 Days Of Chrismuts writing challenge over on Tumblr!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains minor gunplay (non-loaded gun), firearms in general, graphic descriptions of violence, warped recollections (amnesia) and mentions of emotional neglect. Stay safe!]

“Only us.” A large, tan hand dug into Seth's hair, tugging hard enough to make his eyes roll back in his head. Roman kissed the other man's throat when he bared it, gently nipping the stubbled skin with his teeth.

  
  


You had gone back to bed after spending a considerable amount of time with Rollins in the bathroom. It didn't take a genius to figure out what the two of you had been doing, so both Dean _and_ Roman were a little surprised when their brother in arms emerged red-faced and clearly hard. The slick coating his beard had offered an excellent clue though, and Ambrose wasted no time cleaning up.

  
  


“They taste so damn good, don't they?” He gasped into Seth’s mouth, sloppily tracing his tongue along his facial hair. Seth nodded furiously. “You took care of them? Made sure they didn't go to bed riled up?”

  
  


“They're better, yeah. I just wish they would believe us.” Seth sighed, tearing up a little and doing his best to play it off. “They remember bits and pieces. Nothing solid. I know they trust us. I doubt they would have let me get them cleaned up and put my mouth on them if they didn't trust me.” He twiddled his fingers and then moaned as Roman slid his hand into his boxers.

  
  


“ You're  _ dripping _ , Rollins. See somethin’ you like?” Dean teased, his tongue poking out from between his teeth.

  
  


“ _ Hah _ , Roman with his cock out and a gun to his head was uh…” Seth shuddered all over as he recalled the moment: stirred from his sleep by rhythmic motion, turning over into his side and realizing that Ambrose was already awake and  _ watching _ , always watching, as Roman cradled you in his lap and rolled his hips up to meet your hand.

  
  


Ambrose had shot Seth a predatory grin and jerked his chin up, pointing out the gun that you held underneath Reigns’ jaw. It was Roman's gun. Roman always had it with him, but he never actually had it loaded unless they were _actively_ working. His reasoning was that if someone _was_ planning on doing anything unsavory, the last thing he wanted was them swiping his gun with bullets ready in the chamber. Obviously you didn't remember that, and it sure as hell made for a thrilling display.

  
  


“Maybe I could get ‘em to hold a knife on me.” Dean mused in the here and now, laughing quietly at the responding pitiful whine from Seth. “Oh you _like_ that idea? Good.”

  
  


“I dunno’, Dean. Can't exactly unload a knife.” Roman warned pragmatically.

  
  


Dean's grin was even wider than before. “Yeah, ain't it great?”

  
  


“You got some weird kinks, Ambrose.”

  
  


“Uh, I'm sorry, were you _not_ the one fucking the hand of someone with a gun ready inna’ position to pulp ya’ tongue and brains? It would seem that _someone_ in the group is finally freakier than I am.” Dean nudged Roman in the ribs. “Knives are one thing, but _guns_ , Ro?”

  
  


“Only if I know it's unloaded!” Roman protested. “I...It's the feeling of it, I guess. I'm so used to the cannon it's kinda’ mundane. Someone else touching it, holding it-”

  
  


“Strokin’ the trigger, slidin’ it under your jaw nice an’ easy...are we still talkin’ about the gun, or did ya’ change y’ dick's name while I wasn't payin’ attention?”

  
  


“ _I_ was talking about the gun.” Roman palmed over Seth's stomach.

  
  


“Can we do that sometime?” Seth begged. “Promise I'll be careful.”

  
  


“As if I need incentive to rail you harder.” Roman muttered, his rude words achingly fond. “Sure, I'll let you play with my gun if you let me play with yours. Unloaded. Deal?”

  
  


Rollins’ voice cracked when Roman groped his cock, his thumb rubbing small circles just beneath the head exactly how Seth liked it. Dean quickly got in on the action himself, shoving Seth's shirt up to lick and suck at his nipples until Seth had to bite down on his own knuckles in a losing effort to keep quiet. “N--not fair, Dean-” He gasped.

  
  


His partners knew every button to press, every inch of sensitive skin to torment. He was helpless under their attentions, trapped between them in the best way possible. His surrender wasn't something instinctive. Seth was not a submissive person by nature; he had fought his way to the top of every pile he had ever been thrown under. But this wasn't about submission. He could tease Roman until the other man _begged_ to be fucked. He could make Ambrose do whatever he asked, _whenever_ he asked. It wasn't about submission. It was about the trust the three of them had.

  
  


The four of them had.

  
  


Seth felt tears roll down his cheeks when he came and he rubbed at his eyes, sniffling pitifully. Roman enveloped him in a warm hug and Dean began stroking his hair in a comforting manner. “It's alright, Seth.” Reigns whispered. “We miss them too.”

  
  


Seth gave in to crying in earnest then, his whole body wracked with sobs as he just slumped against Dean's chest and felt Roman hug him a little tighter. “Cry it out, y’ big baby.” Ambrose encouraged roughly. “We got work t’ do, so clear your system and then we'll put y’ to bed.”

  
  


“Thank you.” Rollins huffed out, feeling stupid for losing his composure but grateful that his brothers didn't judge him.

  
  


Eventually the three of them made their way to the blankets on the floor, all tucked up against one another in a tangle of limbs. Seth found sleep quickly, even with his face half-crushed into Roman's chest.

  
  


…

  
  


The whole exchange with Seth had given you goosebumps. Just like Roman, there had been an odd melancholy that seemed to lurk in his eyes when he looked at you. Seth was all heat, more focus, his attention wholly on you while he worked you over with eager, expert motions.

  
  


Despite his delicious efforts, sleep was not in your future. You found yourself lying on your back in the bed (which seemed far too large now), fidgeting with the covers. Soft sounds from the other room caught your attention, and you craned your neck in an effort to listen harder.

  
  


Uncertain as to whether the noises you were hearing were pained or... _ otherwise _ , swamped with a sense of deja vu, you snuck to the door and peeked into the next room.

  
  


Seth was sandwiched between the other two men, his shoulders heaving with deep sobs. Roman was holding him and Dean was running his hands through his hair, both men quietly reassuring him while he wept. It was a surprisingly tender scene and your heart ached a little, that foreign familiarity striking yet again.

  
  


You kept watching as the three of them laid down, huddled up on blankets on the floor. You felt a spike of shame lance through your stomach. Here you were, taking up the bed while the three of them (one of them still healing from a  _ gunshot wound _ , no less) bedded down on the floor.

  
  


You slipped from your room and sidled up to Dean, reaching out to touch his shoulder. “I'm awake.” He muttered, startling you enough that you flinched. “Need somethin’, gorgeous?” He blinked up at you, his arms still folded across his chest.

  
  


You silently extended your hand and Dean took it after a second, his brow furrowing when you knelt and whispered, “You guys should come sleep in my room.”

  
  


“Yeah?” Dean asked, sounding suspicious. “Why's that?”

  
  


“ Because I really doubt that the floor is more comfortable than the bed, and the bed is  _ huge _ -”

  
  


“We ain't tryin’ to hurt you, gorgeous. We _also_ ain't tryin' to get ourselves hurt.” Dean said seriously. “Facts is facts. You believed that gun was functionin’ an’ the only thing that kept Reigns from gettin’ his brains blown out is his own goddamn forethought.” He shook his head, getting to his feet. “Ain't a pretty picture.”

  
  


“What have _you_ done in situations where you were alone and thought you couldn't win?” You snapped.

  
  


“That's the key right there, ain't it. ‘ _Thought_ ’. Listen to me, gorgeous. Hear this, even if you wanna’ ignore everythin’ else.” Ambrose tilted your chin up so you had to look him in the eye. “I never believed that there was a situation I wouldn't get out of. I've put all my trust in those two over there. _And_ into you, more recently.” He shrugged, “Sure, I've been _concerned_ once or twice. Rollins probably toldja’ about that though.”

  
  


“What actually happened?” You whispered. Dean looked down at the other two men, carefully took your arm and silently led you back into the bedroom. Once you sat down, he stood in front of you with his hands at his sides. Despite the obvious attempt at looking relaxed, you could see his fingers twitching every so often.

  
  


“I took my own knife to the back.” He said finally. “Guy was a big fan of brute force vindication, so he whipped it around on me an’ gave me a nice couple of kidney divots.” Ambrose tugged at the neck of his t-shirt and tapped the top of a faded scar that crested his shoulder. “He ripped me open from hip to nape, plain and simple. Blood loss was one thing. The internal damage was kinda’ what had me woozy, though.”

  
  


You put a hand over your mouth, stunned. Rollins had dumbed down the scenario, it would seem.

  
  


“I was layin’ there in a pool of my own blood, Rollins all curled up around me fightin’ the guy off, protectin’ me a day late and a dollar fuckin’ short.” Dean pointed his index finger at your temple like it was the barrel of a gun. “Reigns came in and blew our client away, then he was on Rollins like a bad suit. Never heard Roman yell like that before.”

  
  


“ You guys forgave Seth, though. Why?” You cast a glance over at the ajar door. “He could have gotten you  _ killed _ .”

  
  


“Death's a workin’ hazard. I knew that, a’ course. Made peace with it. If he had any sense, Rollins would have ditched us before that went down. I think he was havin’ second thoughts. Doubtin’ himself an' his motives.” Dean stretched, wincing as the bandaging on his ribs pulled at his skin. “Day late and a dollar short, like I said, but at least he knew he fucked up.”

  
  


“Why do you guys even _do_ this stuff? Why not just work as normal security or something?”

  
  


“I do it because I ain't got nowhere else to go, gorgeous. No blood family. Nobody else except me.” Dean's expression had gone hard. “Roman does it because his pops wanted him to be in the business. Seth does it because he had somethin' to prove and he didn't wanna’ get eaten alive in Spec Ops.” Dean sighed, smoothing his shaggy hair back from his face. “I do it as a way to even the shit odds of this planet. We ain't assigned to _good_ people, okay? You were a weird case. We jumped on it because your parents were totally willing to offer you up as bait. It was our best chance at nabbing these fucks, especially since you'd already had a visit from ‘em.”

  
  


“Instead, you had to play babysitter.” The pieces were starting to fall into place for you.

  
  


“We figured, fuck it, we can take care of this rich fuck's spawn. We're professionals. Cut off one head to get to the next. We didn't expect you to be so...I dunno’, genuine.” Dean admitted. “Didn't expect you to be so pretty. Didn't expect you to be so damn kind to us.” He gestured up and down, taking in your entire body. “You wrecked us, gorgeous.” He sounded almost angry. “Bent us to y’ fuckin’ will without even tryin’. We stopped plannin’ how we would step over you to get to the bad guys and started payin’ more attention to the way your dad an’ y’ mom treated you. The long bouts of fuckin’ silence, the momentary affections an’...I mean, I still don't get what the end game is. But it don't matter. Cards on the table.” He finished firmly, “We're not lettin' you get kidnapped or ransomed or whatever the hell.”

  
  


“Oh.” You said weakly.

  
  


“Sorry, I know you were jus’ bein’ polite. Probably weren't expecting the word vomit.” Ambrose muttered self-consciously. “Tryin' to clear up any confusion is all. Been runnin' it over in my head tryin’ to phrase shit right.”

  
  


“It's okay. Thank you.” You took his hand, smiling up at him. “You guys have been so kind to me.”

  
  


“It's the other way around. Trust me.”

  
  


…

  
  


Your phone buzzed with a message, waking you from a sound sleep. You wondered at that, thoroughly confused as you fumbled to pick up the phone and unlock it. You didn't think you even had service out here!

  
  


- _ Come outside _

  
  


You were wide awake now, staring down at the screen with your brow furrowed. A few seconds passed with you just...stock still, reading and rereading the message. It was from a private number, and it was too short to really discern anything about the person's identity.

  
  


You slipped out of bed, tiptoeing into the living room. 

  
  


- _ Who is this? _

  
  


- _ Unless you want those men to get hurt do as I say come outside NOW _

  
  


Your mind whirled with confusion. Who could this be from? Was this person even _able_ to cause harm to the three men currently sleeping? You gulped, wondering if the cabin had been staked out by snipers or people with night vision goggles. 

  
  


You remembered the haunted look on Seth's face.

  
  


Were you willing to risk it? 

  
  


You heard movement in the other room and cursed your luck as Rollins leaned against the doorway. “Gorgeous, what're you doing up so early? Y'woke up Roman n’ I.” He yawned, running a hand through his hair. You quickly stepped into an old pair of boots that you had taken note of beside the door. Seth cocked his head to the side. “Gorgeous?” He sounded a little more awake now and you knew you had to act fast. Your hand closed around the doorknob. “Hey, wait, what-”

  
  


You yanked open the door and were greeted with a frigid blast of cold air, ignoring it in favor of continuing to bolt. 

  
  


“ _ Gorgeous! _ ”  Seth shouted from the door and you whirled to face him, wrapping your arms around your body.

  
  


“Don’t try to follow me!” You said firmly, already shivering. “I'm serious, Seth!”

  
  


“I'm _not_ letting you go out here, dammit! You'll freeze dressed like that!” Seth swore, yanking on his own boots. “ _We're_ not letting you die out here!”

  
  


“You need to stay inside for your own good!” You yelled, making him pause.

  
  


“ What the hell do you  _ mean _ , ‘for my own-'!” His words were drowned out by the sound of a rapidly-approaching small motor. You had only half-turned when something struck the back of your head, sending you tumbling face-first into the snow. For the second time in your life, the warm blackness devoured you.

  
  


…

  
  


Diesel groaned, scratching the nape of his neck and making his spiked gray hair fluff up even further. “Lemme’ get this straight.” He began slowly. “You guys want permission to...go after this kid. We scrubbed the assignment but _you guys_ want _my permission_ to go after Gold to get the kid back. The one that he kidnapped from you because you swiped them out from beneath his nose, right?”

  
  


“Yes sir.” Seth continued to stare straight ahead.

  
  


Diesel sighed. “Why the _fuck_ do you want to go after him yourselves? The kid was _supposed_ to be bait, remember? We were gonna’ send another team-”

  
  


“It’s personal now sir.”

  
  


“That gives me like, even _less_ incentive to put you three back on this. What the fuck Rollins, c'mon.” Diesel scolded. “You coulda’ tried to make up an excuse or something, man. Am I not worth lying to?”

  
  


“I'm not going to damage my reputation by lying to you, sir. I know there's plenty of people here that still see me as a traitor. I am being one hundred percent honest with you.” Seth's voice shook a little and Ambrose placed a hand on his shoulder. “We _need_ to be put back on this.”

  
  


“No, you _want_ to be put back on this.” Diesel opened a drawer in his desk. “I'm not redoing your briefing, I can't guarantee any backup-”

  
  


“Understood.”

  
  


“ Let me  _ finish _ , damn it.” Diesel jabbed a finger at Seth, his brow furrowed. “I might be lazy, little man, but I'm no fool. You three and your relations with one another are quickly becoming a working hazard. You add another person into your mess and it might just blow up in your face. I ain't hatin' on your free and easy lifestyle, just your lack of regard for your own wellbeing! You guys are good at what you do. Don't fuck this up for yourselves.”

  
  


“We _need_ to save them. We...We're all they have.” Rollins said quietly. “Imagine being alone and scared with a gaping hole in your memories, with parents that would _willingly_ hand you over to be bait! Goldberg is going to hurt them, I _know_ he is. We _need_ to stop him.”

  
  


“Cut the bleeding-heart bullshit, Rollins. You three trying your luck at _Errol Flynn-ing_ this kid isn't something that I can condone.” Diesel slid a folder out of the drawer, opening it up and spreading the contents so they were easily viewable from the other side of the desk. “My hands are tied here, boys. I'm sorry.” He paused, then winked, tapping his finger on a highlighted paragraph. “We don't really know where Goldberg’s gone to ground anyway. This is a dead end.”

  
  


“Of course. We're sorry we wasted your time.” Dean muttered, his eyes still latched onto the pages on the desk. “Thank you anyway. For er, bein’ willing to listen to us.”

  
  


Diesel waited until Ambrose shot him a sidelong look beneath his bangs before he tucked the file back into his desk. “Now, you boys enjoy the holidays. See Michaels for another assignment if you don't want the time off.”

  
  


“Yeah.”

  
  


Rollins was squinting at the older man, as if he was waiting for him to do something. Diesel grunted and made a shooing motion. “Get outta’ my office.”

  
  


Once the trio had left, Diesel leaned back in his chair and speed dialed Michaels.

  
  


“ _ What's up Big? _ ”

  
  


“Who do we have active right now? Yeah, I _know_ you sent the report this morning. Just humor me and refresh my memory, man.” Diesel leaned back even further in his chair, running a hand through his hair yet again.

  
  


There was a pregnant pause and then Michaels grudgingly obliged, “ _ Logs showin’ recent check ins from our kid in Bulgaria, the Everglades lightin’ up like a damn Zemeckis star field, we have more activity in Canada and Mexico- _ ”

  
  


“Well at least I didn't lie to ‘em about the no backup.” Diesel sighed, rubbing at his temples. “Why the fuck can't the clowns of the world take the holidays off?” He grumbled.

  
  


…

  
  


You woke up in your own bed. You laid there motionless for a second, then bolted upright as memories flooded you. You remembered hitting your head, not knowing who your security team was, the cabin, trying to hold Roman at gunpoint, Seth-

  
  


_Goldberg_. Your blood ran cold. So that was why you'd been offered up as bait. Your father had sometimes griped about him in the background of Skype calls. You only vaguely remembered seeing the large bald man on television once, and it wasn't for anything good. So this was what he was up to? Kidnapping? Or extortion? _Both?_ You could hope it was something that simple.

  
  


“Rise and shine kiddo. It's Christmas morning.” You jolted, so deep in thought you hadn't even heard the man approach. “Spacey as usual, I see. Daddy dearest wasn't lying there.” He sighed, seeming disappointed. “Really hoped you'd put up more of a fight, honestly. Wanted to have a few bruises to help ease the bucks out of your parents’ wallet.”

  
  


Your fists clenched beneath the blankets. 

  
  


“Ah well, can't be helped. C'mon, it's time for lunch already. You've been sleeping for ages, blunt force trauma does that to a person.” Giving you no option to argue, Bill Goldberg took your elbow and hauled you out of bed. Your knees shook and he grunted when you almost collapsed. “Shit, you're frail. Neglect, I guess.” The hand on your arm was like a vice. You could feel the strength in his fingers alone, like Seth but entirely malicious. There was no holding it in check to keep from scaring you, he was attempting to intimidate and it was absolutely working. 

  
  


You followed him downstairs, doing your best to appear docile. The whole time your mind was pitching back and forth, rattling down a list of options that grew more and more farfetched. Fear suddenly squeezed at your heart and before you could think about it you blurted out, “did you hurt them?”

  
  


“Who?” Goldberg asked nonchalantly. 

  
  


“Don't play dumb with me!” You snapped. 

  
  


“Easy with that attitude, kiddo. You _want_ a beating? Just for the sake of argument I'll assume you're talking about your ‘security’ team.” Goldberg chuckled. “What a joke! They didn't even come after me! Of course, me being on a snowmobile probably factored in to the nonexistent pursuit of your kill squad.” He mused, his eyes fixed on you while you flushed uncomfortably. “I guess they really had you fooled. You know they don't really do _security_ , right? Or did they not even have the balls to tell you that much?”

  
  


“Ambrose told me-”

  
  


“Can’t even believe he's still alive.” Goldberg muttered like he was talking to himself. “Never mind. I don't really give a shit. I whipped up something for lunch and I expect you to eat. After we've got some food into you, we'll give your folks a little Christmas call. Can't have you passing out from hunger, now can I?”

  
  


You stared at your plate once he sat you down at the long table in the dining room, your brow furrowed. “What did you _do_ to this?” You asked incredulously, poking the lump of charcoal that might have been a pile of hamburger at one point. “You're _how_ old and you don't even know how to cook something as simple as a _burger?_ ” You knew that your flippant words were reckless, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. You were on your own, with nothing but the training that you'd been given by Seth, Dean and Roman.

  
  


_ How to take down an opponent larger than you _ :  _ You’re already going to be at a disadvantage _ .  _ First things first, get your opponent off-balance. _

  
  


Bill appeared to be ignoring you. The only indicator that he heard you was the vein in his forehead growing more and more prominent.

  
  


“You _do_ realize that my family regularly frequents high-class restaurants, right?” You needled, folding your arms across your chest and making a show out of turning your nose up. “I wouldn't feed this to a _dog_ , Mr. Goldberg.”

  
  


“Keep it up kiddo.” He hissed, twisting the handle of his fork in the tablecloth. “I'm sure your parents wouldn't care if I had you skip a few meals.”

  
  


“ Naturally. They'd probably applaud you. Should have heard my mother wailing about getting my gala dress refitted.” You shot back. He was  _ jealous _ , you realized, taking in how he had set the table. Silverware in the wrong places, too many dishes for the lone course he had made and the fanciest tablecloth in the linen closet. He appreciated the finer things in life despite obviously having little practice in utilizing them, playing at opulence with the clumsy enthusiasm of a child.

  
  


There was a crash that sounded like it came from the foyer and Goldberg glanced up in confusion, his fork hovering in midair. You saw his hand shaking. Just a tiny bit.

  
  


“Kiddo, did you invite anyone else for lunch?” He asked you calmly, the furrow between his brows a textbook warning sign.

  
  


You shook your head and the older man struck, his fingers clamping down on the back of your neck and slamming your head into the table. Your vision greyed out for a second, right hand instinctively digging at your hip for the knife Ambrose had given you as a birthday present. But you didn’t have it. Of course you didn’t.

  
  


“Don’t lie to me, you little _brat_.” Goldberg hissed. “No one else could be out there. No one else gives a _fuck_ about you. Not even your own _parents_. How much did you pay them to get them on your side? Whatever it is, I can double it easily.” He was seething. “This game is _over_.”

  
  


_Pay? You think their loyalty can be bought_ , you mused inwardly. _And_ _ **I’m**_ _the dumb one_.

  
  


The French doors to the foyer burst open and in strode three _very_ familiar men. “Guys!” You cried, wincing in pain when Goldberg slammed your head down a second time.

  
  


“Not another step closer.” Goldberg warned. “Whatever they’re paying you, I can top it. You boys would be damn useful on my side of the law.”

  
  


Seth looked about ready to explode out of his own skin. He had that sniper rifle slung over his shoulder, nearly as long as he was tall, and he just…tossed it aside. You felt Goldberg twitch at the motion. “You're going to regret this.” Rollins said softly.

  
  


“Whoa whoa whoa, hang on a sec.” Dean clapped a hand on Seth’s shoulder, pulling him back. “Look old man, if you’re willin’ to up the ante…” He paused, raising an eyebrow. “We can be reasonable. Ain’t no need for bloodshed on our part, right Rollins?”

  
  


“ Consider your payment doubled.” Goldberg was grinning wildly. “See kiddo? This is why people like me win, and people like you  _ lose _ .” He released you, and then caught you by surprise when he slammed your head back down a final time in passing.

  
  


…

  
  


Seth bit his lip so hard that his skin crunched in warning. His eyes were fixed on you, breath pulling unevenly in his chest as he barely kept himself from blindly lunging at Goldberg.  _ Remember how to do this. Keep quiet. Make him forget that you’re here. Ambrose will talk. Roman will be obvious. You can be invisible _ .

  
  


You hadn’t moved since Bill had cracked your skull into the table. Seth forced himself to ignore your motionless form.

  
  


“Gold, I know you _say_ you can double what they’re givin’ us. But uh, you gonna’ give us any proof? Our current handlers ain't exactly hurtin’ for cash, so I’m kinda’ drawin’ a blank on this whole ‘doubling’ thing.” Dean drawled, leaning on Roman’s shoulder and giving the older man a leering smirk. “You’re willing to kidnap and threaten a defenseless person with violence to get a couple hundred thou’ outta’ their family, collateral damage don’t mean shit to you. Plus the little stunt you pulled with your posse invadin’ the house in the dead of night almost had me buyin’ the farm. Didn't want us collectin’ your paycheck?”

  
  


“You boys were getting ready to strike. It was a fun game we played, you three trying to _lull_ me into a false sense of security with _bowling_.” The older man accused. He was wisely keeping his distance, making sure the long banquet table stayed between him and the three men. “I’m sorry, I didn’t consider _bowling_ to be a vital part in your strategy!”

  
  


“We needed to get the kid outta’ the house.” Ambrose shrugged, picking at a scab on his chin. “It’d be easier to manipulate them an’ make it look like an accident if they trusted us. You know that from personal experience. Ain’t our fault they were a shut-in.”

  
  


While Ambrose prattled on Seth eased back a step, then another. Casual, nonchalant. Dean's hand behind his back flashed a series of fingers at him. Two together, a pause, and then one.  _ Wait a minute _ . 

  
  


“ Gold, you know above all that we're reasonable guys. You wanna’ know how much our sweet little thing was payin’ us to keep them safe?” Seth could picture the shit-eating grin on Dean's face. “Not a fuckin’ cent. We're paid by our organization. That's it. So if you can double  _ nothin’ _ , I guess y’ must be a man of great fuckin’ substance.” 

  
  


Goldberg sputtered, obviously at a loss for words, and Dean quickly beckoned Rollins on behind his back while Roman grabbed hold of Dean's other wrist. Seth had a running start of only a few feet and he hoped and prayed it was enough, bolting forward and planting his boot in the cradle his brothers had created to launch him up and over.

  
  


It was apparently _more_ than adequate momentum. Seth hastily tucked his head in for the flip over Dean and Roman, bending his knees and rolling through the landing to skid to a halt bare inches from Goldberg’s face. The dishes on the table clattered in his wake and Bill just... _stared_ at him, nose to nose.

  
  


“Like I said.” Seth whispered, grabbing the collar of the larger man's shirt. “You're going to regret this.”

  
  


“Oh I _doubt_ th-” Whatever smug remark Goldberg had been about to make was cut short by the sound of a blade being drawn. Seth hadn't even noticed Dean and Roman moving to flank him, and from the look on Goldberg's face it appeared that he hadn't either. 

  
  


“Choose your words _real_ careful, paycheck.” Dean growled, the blade of his knife sliding lazily beneath Goldberg's chin. “I ain't merciful like Rollins. And I won't make it quick like Reigns. I'll make it _ugly_.”

  
  


“This is illegal.” Bill pointed out, his voice shaking.

  
  


“You've got to be shitting me.” Dean replied incredulously. “All of a sudden your dumb ass knows right from wrong? Don't make me fuckin’ laugh. I could slit your throat and there ain't a jury that would convict me, Bill.”

  
  


Seth saw a flurry of motion out of the corner of his eye and then _you_ were clinging to Goldberg's arm, mumbling _no no no_. They hadn't even noticed the gun that Bill had, _a concealed belt holster maybe?_ Rollins cursed his own inattention, his grip never wavering. Goldberg easily shook you off and jabbed the barrel into Dean's side, chuckling.

  
  


Ambrose grinned back in that way that made it look like he was baring his teeth, devoid of mirth with ice in his eyes. “Nice try, Bill. Better luck next time.”

  
  


Roman struck, his arm rocketing forward to slam the butt of his hand cannon down on Goldberg's wrist. Bill yelped, releasing his gun on reflex and Seth cheered inwardly when you caught it. That deadly click announced that Roman was losing his patience, the large man cordially asking, “Gorgeous, how’s your head?”

  
  


“Better than ever.” You grumbled, wiping away the trickle of blood from a small cut over your eyebrow. “So what now? The police, right?”

  
  


“Nah. This scumbag is special.” Dean mused. “Why the long face? Big’s gonna’ be thrilled to see ya’, Bill! Lighten up.” 

  
  


“You're sure I can't change your minds?” Goldberg implored as Seth pulled out a handful of zipties. “You boys are wasting your talent working with that asshole. Just think of what you could do if you joined me instead. C'mon!” His eyes landed on you and Seth hated with a passion the smirk that crept across his face. “ _Imagine_ what you could get away with, what you could do to them-”

  
  


“ You'd better shut your mouth before one of us gags you.” Roman’s tone was calm, a stark contrast to the subject matter of his words. “You have the right to remain silent. I suggest you take full advantage of that and  _ shut the fuck up _ .”

  
  


Bill wisely clammed up and allowed the three men to secure him to a dining room chair, where he waited silently.

  
  


“Nash is on his way. He had a patrol a few miles south. No backup, my ass.” Ambrose grumbled after he got off the phone. 

  
  


“Let me see your head, gorgeous.” Seth gave you as thorough of a checkup as he could, trying not to fixate on the swollen cut over your eyebrow. “How do you feel? Woozy? Halo in your vision? Any disturbances?” He asked worriedly, cupping your face so he could see if your pupils were equal and tracking motion properly.

  
  


He was distraught when your eyes filled with tears, but then you smiled up at him. “I'm okay! I promise.” You laughed, wiping at your eyes. “I mean, my head is sore, yeah. But I'm okay Seth.”

  
  


Rollins silently embraced you, carefully stroking the back of your head as you sniffled into his tactical vest and clung to him. “We told you we would keep you safe. I'm sorry we were a little late.”

  
  


“I tried really hard to keep him off-balance.”

  
  


“You did good, gorgeous.” Dean rasped, rumpling your hair. “Kept his ass yammerin’ until the cavalry arrived. We're a pretty small cavalry, a’ course. Kinda’ raggedy. But we do our best.” Dean nudged his nose into Seth's cheek. “We gotta’ talk about y’ somersault there, Rollins.”

  
  


“ It was a  _ combat roll _ .” Seth huffed, knocking his forehead back into Dean's.

  
  


“Great half-ass cartwheel.”

  
  


“I didn't see _you_ doing any flips, Ambrose!” Dean flipped him off in reply and Seth couldn't help the hysterical cackle that exploded out of him. He heard you start to giggle into his chest and he held you a little tighter, unable to keep the smile off his face.

  
  


…

  
  


The latest holiday movie played on in the background and you dimly heard Roman making his way back upstairs, no doubt with fresh popcorn in hand. The three of you had settled in on your bed after Mr. Diesel and his associates had come to collect the docile Goldberg, the _extremely_ tall man shaking your hand as though you were a new business partner. 

  
  


“ _ I'll be in touch _ ,” he’d said with a sly wink, shooting a glare at the three men behind you. “ _ And as for you boys, you have any idea how much paperwork I'm gonna’ have to fill out to take care of this mess? _ ”

  
  


You nudged Seth's side and his arm moved to hug your shoulders. “You want to sit on my lap?” Seth offered and you quickly took him up on it, immensely enjoying the way he pulled you back into his chest. “No guns, right?” He murmured, his hands moving to your hips so he could tuck you tighter into his lap. 

  
  


You shook your head with a laugh, making an embarrassing noise when he ground his hardening length up against you. 

  
  


“Uh oh, sounds like Rollins is gettin’ handsy.” Dean teased, leaning over to peck you on the cheek. “What’s the matter gorgeous, he grindin’ his dick against you? He loves doin’ that shit.”

  
  


You couldn’t answer as Seth tugged your panties to the side, kisses falling at random on your neck. You could almost _hear_ Dean smirking.

  
  


Roman sauntered back onto the bed and settled against the headboard, lazily extending one arm laden with your snack of choice. He wiggled it just out of reach and you crawled forward to grab it, whispering a thank-you. You hoped and prayed that your excitement hadn’t left any embarrassing slick marks on Rollins’ pants. You knew you were wet through your underwear already, feeling the heat on your inner thighs.

  
  


Seth flipped your skirt up over your hips as you hungrily tucked in to your snack, his hands rubbing gentle circles into your exposed skin.

  
  


Dean swore under his breath, nothing but a gritty, low, “ _ fuck _ .” Roman glanced over at that, grinning when he saw your position and the way Seth’s hands were moving.

  
  


“Fucking ridiculous.” He laughed. “Not that I can blame you. We're all safe and sound. It's a relief. Feels almost normal again, right?”

  
  


You looked back at Seth, who actually _whimpered_ at you in a ridiculous manner. “Please?” He asked softly. “You’re already so wet, and Dean and Roman are right here. All you have to do is sit down, I promise.” There was the ticking sound of a zipper pulling open. “Please, gorgeous, please please.”

  
  


Feeling like an entirely different person, bold and maybe ( _just maybe_ ) a little needy, you handed off your snack to Ambrose. “Only if I get to finish my snack after I’ve gotten a treat.” You bargained, dragging a sharp inhale from Roman.

  
  


“Anything you want.” Seth agreed rapidly.

  
  


“ Shit, I think we’d give you a ‘ _ treat _ ’  any old time.” Dean growled.

  
  


You settled back down on Seth’s lap, squeezing his freed cock teasingly between your thighs for a moment before you rose back up and let him have his way. Seth’s hands dug beneath your top and into your bra to toy with your breasts, making you tremble in his grip. “I am gonna’ fill you up and make you come on my dick.” He promised in your ear, his cock sliding over your pussy. “Up a little, and then relax.” He coached and you obeyed, the head of his dick breaching you slowly.

  
  


“God, gorgeous, you always take him so good. Just like me, just like Roman.” Dean murmured. “We oughta’ fuck him open while he’s tryin’ to fuck you. See how far his focus gets him before he starts beggin’.”

  
  


“Easy man, don’t wanna’ come before them.” Seth protested, his voice a little shaky. “ _That’s_ right gorgeous, you just lean into my hands. Lean into them, so I can fuck you.”

  
  


You had watched Dean and Roman finish Seth off more than once, watched them jerk him until he came with a gasping sigh of completion. The idea of him actually getting _fucked_ by one of them was relatively untouched territory, though apparently not for them judging by how hard Seth was bucking up into you. You couldn't deny that the notion had merit.

  
  


“When we fuck each other, we fuckin’ _spread_ each other open. Seth makes the best noises outta’ everyone, don’t you Seth?” Dean rasped, “Whimpers and whines, _loves it_. One time Roman and I pinned him to the wall and took turns railin’ him.”

  
  


_That_ was an image for sure, your mind running wild. Your pussy clenched on Seth's cock and he gasped, his breath coming in sharp bursts. “No fair, you can't say shit like-- _hngh_ , they like it Ambrose you can't-” He choked.

  
  


“He likes being sloppy.” Roman confided. “Would you like that, Seth? You want to get fucked while you fuck them?”

  
  


Seth went dead still inside you. You could feel his thighs trembling and jerking with the effort of not moving and you rolled your hips, making Seth bury his face in your shoulder helplessly.

  
  


“ You wanna’ get  _ fucked _ , doncha’? Wanna' get bent over and filled up?” Dean crooned, a hand already fisted in Seth's hair. “Maybe  _ twice _ , right? Maybe maybe?”

  
  


“You want Dean to fuck you while you fuck them? Or do you want to sit in my lap?” Roman purred. “Grind on my cock while you fuck yours into them? We're waiting.”

  
  


“D-Dean first then you Roman,” Seth said all in a rush, avoiding looking at your eyes like he was embarrassed. “Please, I--”

  
  


“Shh, we've got you.” Roman soothed, sitting up and moving to lift you bodily off of Seth's cock. You whined in complaint and Roman chuckled, rubbing his nose against your cheek. “So impatient. I have to prep him, gorgeous. Do me a favor and jerk him slow while I open him up, okay? I want to see how long he can go without coming.” He greedily fondled your breast through your shirt, like he couldn't help himself. You whimpered and rocked against the comforting bulk of his body and Dean chuckled.

  
  


“We're all so greedy for you, gorgeous.”

  
  


Seth groaned when you finally laid beside him on the bed, his head hanging while he stayed on his hands and knees. You skimmed a hand over his now-shirtless chest, watching in delighted surprise as he jolted and gritted his teeth after you circled his nipples. Your fingers moved lower, finding his cock and gripping it loosely. It was still dripping from your own slick and you crooned, “ _good boy_ ,” in his ear, making him swear under his breath and rock his hips down into your hand.

  
  


Roman began the careful, gentle process of working Seth's body open, preparing him for the eventual intrusion with two lubricated fingers. Dean knelt in front of Seth, his jeans unzipped and his cock out. He stroked himself a few times and you were certain he was making a show of it, staying out of Seth's reach for a few precious minutes to keep him distracted from any initial pain. Seth wasted little time swallowing down the other man's length once Dean _did_ move close enough, whining and grunting around it in response to either Roman or you, you weren't entirely certain. Rollins seemed torn between humping your hand or fucking back onto Roman's fingers, settling for a weird twitch of his hips every few seconds that seemed to satisfy him.

  
  


“How it usually works, gorgeous, is that I prep him for Dean, who in turn preps him for me.” Roman said conversationally to you while scissoring and crooking his fingers. Seth cried out, saliva trickling down the side of his jaw as Dean continued to thrust roughly into his mouth. “I'm a little thicker than Dean, so it's for the best that Ambrose goes first and warms him up.” Reigns brought his palm down lightly on the curve of Seth's rear, not really hard enough to be considered a swat. More of a caress. “Seth loves it when we go one right after the other. Loves feeling all used and fucked out.”

  
  


Rollins nodded rapidly, Dean helpfully holding his hair back out of the way.

  
  


“Not sure how it might change with you in the mix, but it's going to be interesting.” Roman mused, his eyes narrowing. “Rollins, you’d better not be about to come. Gorgeous, give the base of his cock a tight squeeze.” Seth made a despairing noise that sent shivers down your spine, the power you held over him suddenly obvious. “Hey, no complaining. This is your own fault for being so quick on the trigger.” Roman chided, his fingers wrapping around your own to firmly grip the base of Seth's cock. It twitched like it had a mind of its own, throbbing hot in your hand as Seth squirmed a little. “Sneaky brat. Stop whining and let them milk you like a good fuck toy.” 

  
  


“ Enough.” Dean gasped, pulling back out of Rollins’ mouth. “Wanna' fuck him  _ now _ .”

  
  


“I'm ready, I promise, I promise.” Seth arched his back. “Fuck me Dean, c'mon, I want to fuck them-”

  
  


“Alright gorgeous, on your belly underneath him.” Roman got you into position, smirking at the noise Seth made and the way he rubbed his cock against the swell of your rear. “Ambrose, mount him once he's got his cock in them.”

  
  


Seth peppered the back of your neck with hungry kisses, one hand entwined with your own as he guided his cock to penetrate you from behind with a slow roll of his hips. You gasped and squirmed up, loving the new angle, then froze when Seth cried out, “F-- _uck's_ sake, A-Ambrose!” His breathing hitched and you heard a low groan from Dean.

  
  


“Christ Reigns, you always slick him up so nice. Slid right in.” Dean rasped. He leaned down to grab your hand, the one that Seth already had a death grip on. “How you doin’, Rollins? Gonna’ come? If you hold off, I'll make it worth your while.”

  
  


“ Dean-” Seth half-sobbed, his hips working furiously to fuck into you. His hands groped at the bed beneath you, searching out your breasts and cupping them. “Dean, God, gorgeous you feel so good, so fucking  _ good-- _ ”

  
  


You were breathless underneath the two men, feeling the pace Ambrose set _through_ Seth's motions. Rollins brought his hips flush to your rear, seating himself as deeply as he could inside you. All you could do was try to arch up and fuck back at him, every inch of skin tingling with heat and arousal.

  
  


“Oh no, oh no--” Seth panted in your ear, digging beneath you again to rub his fingers over your clit. You cried out at the lightning bolt of sensation and Ambrose snarled.

  
  


“Holy fuck, _easy_ Rollins. Loosen up.” He choked out. “Deep breaths, I don't wanna’ hurt you.”

  
  


Seth was clearly paying him no mind, his chin resting on your shoulder as he hammered down into you with sharp, precise strokes. He had gone nearly silent, his teeth digging fiercely into his lower lip. 

  
  


“ _ Seth _ .” Dean snapped, Rollins’ chin suddenly gone from your shoulder. “You want me to pull your hair, I'll pull your fuckin’ hair, but you need to relax around me otherwise this shit is gonna’ hurt you.” Ambrose warned. Seth whined pitifully and you caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of your eye. He looked dazed, his lips slightly parted and wet while Ambrose kept that grip on his hair. The angle his back was bent at couldn't have been comfortable but he didn't even seem to care, letting Dean push him into you.

  
  


“M’ sorry.” Seth apologized, licking his lips and then biting them nervously. 

  
  


“ Now fuck them like you mean it.” Dean ordered, releasing Seth's hair. Rollins propped himself up with his elbows on either side of your body, rapidly sliding his length in and out of you. You felt like you were melting, molten hot from proximity and activity. Your thighs were shaking with the strain of holding back from coming, your clit aching for more attention as you tried not to grind back against Seth. You didn't want this to end! It was just too good, filthy and sweet and  _ full _ .

  
  


“Damn Rollins, you're almost as wet as they get.” Dean grunted. “Fuck toy likes gettin' railed. You _love_ it when I get balls deep, don't you?”

  
  


Seth pushed his forehead in between your shoulder blades, twitching and moaning as he desperately kept moving. “Ambrose y' gonna' make me _come_ if you keep talking-”  
  
  


“I love it when you fuckin' _squirm_ for me, you tighten up around me like you want me to fuckin' snap you in half.” Dean growled.

  
  


Your body went into spasm, the idea of Seth being fucked into submission apparently too much for you. Your mouth opened to scream but nothing came out, fingers clawing for purchase on the sheets beneath you.

  
  


“Oh God, oh God, they're coming, Dean they're coming, _fuck_ \--” Seth sighed, circling his hips. “ _Fuck_ me, they feel so good...” You sobbed out a breath and took his hand again, kissing his knuckles.

  
  


“Don't mind if I fuckin' do.” Dean muttered, snapping his hips forward to meet Seth's body. A few more strokes was all it took for Ambrose to come, the light-haired man planting a hand on the bed beside your head as he shuddered and gasped his way to his own completion. You watched the muscles in his arm flex and shake with the force of holding his weight and you couldn't help shivering again, all the while whispering _thank you_ , _thank you_...  
  
  
  


…

  
  


When Dean pulled out, Seth felt his cock twitch needily. He had to stay still, had to stay still. He'd been told not to come, so he  _ had _ to stay still.

  
  


Roman settled back onto his knees, hissing and then smearing some of Dean's come down the back of Seth's thigh as it dripped out of him. “I'm fucking taking you now, Rollins. You're not allowed to come unless they do again, got it?”

  
  


Seth knew he must look delirious, his hair all over the place and his whole body flushed with heat. “Whatever you want.” He breathed, watching hungrily over his shoulder while Roman stroked himself a few times with the lubricant from the bottle on the nightstand.

  
  


“I know Ambrose got you plenty fucking wet for me.” Roman muttered, still helping himself to a second coating after he put on a condom. “You ready, Seth? Ready for this fucking cock?”

  
  


Seth loved the way Roman would get all heated and almost-angry, swears falling rapid as compliments. Seth knew from experience that the more he would surrender, the better it would be. “Please, Roman.” He whispered. 

  
  


Seth loved the way you shivered beneath his body, obviously overstimulated but loving every second of it. You tugged him down to kiss you and he went happily, his tongue tangling with your own.

  
  


Seth loved the way Ambrose softened and fawned over him when he knew he was about to get fucked, the other man's hands stroking his hair and shoulders in a way that was startlingly tender for someone like Dean.

  
  


Rollins dissolved into helpless babbling with his hands fisted in the sheets on either side of your head as Roman slowly, slowly sank the length of his dick into him. Seth's forehead rested on your back, his fingers gripping at your sides as he tentatively eased back onto Roman's cock, taking him inch by inch. The growl Roman let out spiraled down into Seth's core, an unfiltered, guttural noise of pleasure so honest it made him want to come on the spot. Seth was  _ hot _ ,  _ slick _ , a filthy mixture of come and lubricant allowing him to take Roman better than usual.

  
  


Dean wiggled you out from beneath Seth, kissing you fiercely and choking back a laugh when you moved against his body in a sensual manner. “You want a taste, gorgeous? Or do you want the whole experience?” Seth watched hazily as you leaned in and whispered something in his ear, Dean's eyes widening and then half-lidding. “That ain't a bad idea, gorgeous.” He murmured, a lazy grin turning up the corner of his mouth. “Pass me a condom and prepare to have y’ dreams come true.”

  
  


“You're fucking them Ambrose?” Roman asked, releasing his hold on Seth's hips to reach beneath him and loosely grip the shaft of Seth's cock. 

  
  


Rollins didn't _mean_ to come, it just sort of happened, the younger man coating Roman's fingers with a muffled gasp. Seth's breathing rasped in his throat as he came down from the high, dimly aware that Roman was _not_ slowing down in the slightest.

  
  


“I told you to wait.” Roman murmured. “You did good though, I guess I shouldn't have touched your cock. Now this means I'll have to fuck a second one out of you.” He slid his palms down over the front of Seth's thighs, digging his fingers in for a better grip and full on _rutting_ his cock into Seth. 

  
  


Rollins sobbed out, pressing his forehead to the bed. It was so good it was overwhelming, his body in spasm from coming and Roman slip-dragging over that spot inside that made him light up. His cock rubbed against the sheets, half-hard just from the pressure alone. 

  
  


He heard you moan and he found the strength to raise his head, watching hungrily. Dean and you were both on your knees, your back to his chest while he slowly fucked up into you from behind. Roman chuckled overhead and the next thing Seth knew he was being repositioned, Roman tugging him carefully upright into a mirror of the other two. 

  
  


Roman’s hand slipped beneath Seth's jaw, holding the younger man's face steady while he tweaked and toyed with his nipples. “You like this, Rollins? I can fuck you just like them.” He hissed, grinning when Dean gripped you tightly and sidled even closer. “You two could even make out while Dean and I fuck you. What do you say, Seth? Give us a show.”

  
  


Seth buried his face in Roman's neck to hide his embarrassment, covering the skin there with kisses. It was uncharted territory for you to be around when they were _actually_ fucking one another, normally they just jerked each other off because it was less of a hassle. But with you here, getting fucked while he was getting fucked too...

  
  


Seth chanced another look at you and saw Dean fondling your breasts and pressing his hand to your stomach to keep you steady, whispering in your ear. Whatever he was saying was making you writhe on his dick, your eyes fixed on Seth the entire time. Dean managed to move even  _ closer _ , directly opposite from Seth and Roman with nothing but a few inches separating you and Rollins.

  
  


Roman grinned against Seth's shoulder, reaching out to give one of your nipples a teasing flick. Dean did the same to Seth, laughing at Rollins’ pitiful noise in reply. “ _Fuck_ , they tightened up when you made that sound. Roman, I think they like watchin’ him gettin’ railed.” Ambrose smirked. “Isn't that right, gorgeous? You like watchin’ Seth gettin’ worked over? I know you like it when we suck or jerk each other off, so I'm sure this is fuckin’ _divine_ for you.” 

  
  


You caught one of Seth’s hands, bringing it to your mouth and pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “Thank you.” You said softly. 

  
  


Rollins huffed out a breath and kissed you as hard as he could, carding his fingers through your hair. “Thank  _ you _ .” He breathed.

  
  


Dean grabbed a handful of Roman's hair, grinning when the larger man snapped his teeth at him. “So mouthy on top!” He teased, letting the black locks slide through his fingers. Roman wrapped his hand around Seth's throat and threw his arm over the other man's chest, effectively pinning Seth's body to his own. “I am just about ready to come.” Roman was grunting with every thrust, a sure sign of his impending orgasm. “So you just stay put like a good little fuck toy and let me fill you up, alright?”

  
  


Seth nodded to the best of his ability, his breath barely wheezing past Roman's hand. “God, please-” He gasped, squirming as much as he could. 

  
  


“Shh, don't try to talk. Just keep those fucking legs spread and take my cock as deep as you can.” Roman murmured against his ear. His hand moved to Seth's cock again, stroking him in time with his thrusts. “Look at how they watch you.” He whispered.

  
  


Seth glanced up again, meeting your gaze. You were worrying your lip with your teeth, watching Seth's face while Dean pounded into you from behind.

  
  


“They fucking _like_ this, Seth. Bet they'd love to watch you fuck Dean and I.” Roman crooned, gripping Seth's hips and thrusting up into him so hard Seth's mouth popped open. “I know you love it when I beg for you, when Ambrose scratches your back because he can't handle how intense you are.” Roman slammed in and out wordlessly for a few seconds, then grappled with the front of Seth's thighs and sheathed himself as deeply as he could. 

  
  


Across from him, Ambrose did the same to you, his teeth digging into your neck as you cried out. Roman’s cock twitched inside of Rollins and Seth couldn't help the sounds that came out of him as he came again, the sensation of orgasm almost painful. He groaned and shuddered while Roman continued to slowly rut into him, no doubt enjoying the flex of Seth's violently-shaking inner walls even after he came.

  
  


Your voice cracked with a soft, “ _ I'm coming- _ ” , your back arching and Dean growling out some nonsense words before he came.

  
  


Seth hungrily reached for you and you moved into his grasp, letting him run his fingers soothingly through your hair as you came down from your high. Dean and Roman, much to Seth's chagrin, actually  _ high-fived _ each other like they had just won a football game. You sputtered and hicupped with laughter, your breath still uneven from coming and Seth groaned, rolling his eyes before kissing your forehead. “Nothing quite like working with professionals.” He griped.

  
  


“You love us, Rollins. Don't you forget it!” Roman grinned. “Shower? Dean kinda' made a mess.”

  
  


“You're telling me.” Seth couldn't help his snicker when Dean pouted at him. “Chill out, Ambrose. I'll get you back.”

  
  


“Can I watch?” You asked, an excited smile on your face.

  
  


Dean burst out laughing, giving you a gentle swat on the rear. “Good to know your kinks ain't just gunplay. Guess you're a voyeur too. I can live with that.”

  
  


“What do you mean,  _ gunplay?! _ I'm not-”

  
  


“Don't even try to deny it gorgeous, you loved that shit! Good thing Reigns didn't uh,  _ go off early _ , right?”

  
  


Roman groaned in exasperation, knuckling Ambrose upside the head. “You're impossible.”

  
  


“You know you love me!” Dean protested.

  
  


“I really do.” You said softly, startling Rollins. “All of you. Thank you for being with me.”

  
  


“Hey,” Seth replied when he trusted his voice, “I mean, what's the holidays without family, right?”

  
  


“C'mon, let's hurry up and get showered! We still have to open presents!”

  
  


“ _ Presents?! _ ”

 


End file.
